Div.Sch. 

BX 

8491 

.F589 

1898 


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DUKE 
UNIVERSITY 


LIBRARY 


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EMINENT  METHODISTS. 


TWELVE  BOOKLETS  IN  ONE  BOOK. 


BY 

BISHOP  O.  P.  FITZGERj^I^D 

AND 

BISHOP  C.  B.  GAI,I,OWAY. 


NASHVILLE,  TENN.  : 

PUBLISHING   HOUSE    M.  E.  CHURCH,  SOUTH, 

BARBEE    &;   SMITH,  AGENTS. 


THE  NAMES  OF  THE  TWELVE. 

LovicK  Pierce. 
Landon  C.  Garland. 
Moses  Brock. 
Holland  N.  McTyeire. 
Robert  A.  Smith. 
Robert  Alexander. 
James  A.  Duncan. 
Susanna  Wesley. 
Hubbard  H.  Kavanaugh=, 
George  F.  Pierce. 
Thomas  Bottomley. 
Jefferson  Hamilton. 

(2) 


Copyright,  1S97. 


£53 
1818 


TO  THE  KIND  READER. 

The  booklet  on  Susanna  Wesley  was 
written  bv  my  honored  and  beloved 
colleague.  Responsibility  for  the  others 
rests  on  me.  That  they  may  give  pleas- 
ure and  profit  to  all  who  may  read  them 
is  the  wish  and  prayer  of 

The  reader's  friend, 

O.  P.  Fitzgerald. 

Nashville,  January  lo,  1S97. 

(3) 


LOVICK  PIERCE. 

1785-1879. 


l^^  OLOSSAL  of  mind,  saintly 
V  of  soul,  this  man  was  unique- 

^^  \y  great  in  his  day.  His 
memory  is  blessed.  His  name  will 
be  honored  as  long  as  the  cotton 
blooms  blush  in  their  beauty  in 
the  Georgia  fields  or  the  breezes 
stir  the  leaves  of  the  oaks  on  her 
wooded  hills.  Blessed,  beloved  old 
servant  of  Christ  and  friend  of  man  ! 
His  monument  is  the  great  Church 
he  so  much  helped  to  make.  A 
serene  and  lofty  figure  in  the  his- 
tory of  Georgia  Methodism,  he 
stands  at  the  threshold  of  a  new 
era  pointing  to  the  brightening  fu- 
ture. The  brightening  future  he  be- 
lieved it  would  be.  No  preacher  of 
his  day  was  keener-sighted  in  the 
detection  of  wrong  or  more  un- 
flinching and  faithful  in  denouncing 
it.     No    man    in    his   day  preached 


3Lovtcft  f»ierce. 


the  gospel  of  love  to  sinners  with, 
more  of  that  love  in  his  heart.  He 
was  an  Elijah  in  heroism,  a  Jere- 
miah in  tenderness ;  now  flashing 
Sinaitic  fire,  now  Aveeping  heart- 
broken over  lost  men. 

He  was  of  English  stock.  Three 
brothers  came  to  America,  two  of 
whom  settled  in  the  North  and  one 
in  the  South.  Though  thus  nomi- 
nally of  English  descent,  the  brilliant, 
black  eyes,  ready  wit,  and  kindling 
enthusiasm  of  the  Pierce  family 
suggest  that,  like  some  other  fam- 
ilies among  us,  they  were  originally 
a  Norman  clan  that  somehow  lost 
its  pedigree  without  losing  its  true 
nobility.  All  Americans  are  agreed, 
at  least  in  theory,  that  it  is  better  to 
make  a  record  than  to  air  a  pedi- 
gree.    Our  nobility  is  indigenous. 

Lovick  Pierce  was  born  on  March. 
24,  1785,  in  Halifax  County,  N.  C. 
Good  old  North  Carolina,  land  of 
the  pine  and  the  persimmon,  whose 
waters  teem  with  fishes  of  the  finest 
flavor,    whose    red    Piedmont    hills 


Xovicft  ipierce. 


yield  the  sweetest  fruits,  and  whose 
mountains  kiss  the  skies.  Dear  okl 
North  Carolina,  within  whose  bor- 
ders  no  huge  city,  with  its  grime 
and  greed  and  rush  and  roar,  is  to 
be  found,  and  in  whose  homes  every 
sweet  virtue  blooms.  True-hearted 
old  North  Carolina,  where  alien  ele- 
ments are  fewest  and  old-time  love 
of  liberty  lives  and  grows  in  quiet 
from  generation  to  generation.  Se- 
rene old  Mother  State,  smiling  at 
many  a  joke  or  jibe  as  the  best  of 
lands  from  which  to  emigrate,  she 
follow^s  all  her  wandering  children 
with  a  maternal  interest  that  never 
dies,  rejoicing  in  their  successes,  but 
leaving  to  others  the  heritage  of 
their  glory  and  the  task  of  its  com- 
memoration. Yes,  dear,  dear  old 
Mother  State,  whose  children  v^an- 
der  avk^ay  and  wed  in  the  warmer 
South  and  wider  West,  but  carry 
a  love  that  abides  with  them  until 
they  die  and  go  up  into  the  land 
that  is  fairest  of  all. 

The  Pierces  emigrated  to  South 
3  » 


Xovlcft  f»ierce. 

Carolina  when  Lovick  was  yet  a 
boy,  settling  in  Barnwell  District, 
not  far  from  the  Georg-ia  line,  and 
about  twenty-five  miles  from  the 
city  of  Augusta.  The  country  was 
new  and  the  life  of  the  people 
rough.  They  hunted  and  fished 
and  cvdtivated  sinall  patches  of  cot- 
ton and  corn.  It  was  a  sort  of  boy's 
paradise.  The  streams  were  full  of 
fish,  and  the  forests  were  full  of 
game.  The  cotton  gin  had  not 
then  wrought  its  wonders,  and  only 
enough  cotton  was  produced  to 
clothe  the  various  members  of  the 
family  after  it  had  been  hand  picked, 
carded,  spun,  dyed,  and  woven. 

There  were  nine  children  in  the 
Pierce  faniily — three  sons  and  six 
daughters.  Two  of  these  sons, 
Reddick  and  Lovick,  grew  up  to- 
gether, Reddick  being  the  older  by 
two  years.  They  were  unlike,  yet 
well-matched  companions  in  sport 
and  toil.  Both  were  expert  marks- 
men. With  the  rifle  Lovick  -w^as  a 
crack  shot.  He  could  hit  a  deer  go- 
m  6 


%ovic\{  pierce. 

ing  at  full  speed,  put  a  bullet  through 
a  squirrel's  head  in  the  top  of  the  tall- 
est poplar,  bring  down  a  wild  duck 
■or  partridge  on  the  wing,  or  in  a 
friendly  shooting  match  "  drive  the 
cross  "  at  forty  yards.  And  it  was 
high  sport  for  them  to  "  gig "  the 
trout  by  night  in  the  clear  water 
courses.  The  gig  is  a  three-pronged 
iron  fprk,  like  Neptune's  trident, 
with  which  the  fisherman,  wading 
slowly  up  stream,  catching  the 
gleam  of  the  shining  scales  by  the 
light  of  the  moon,  or  a  pine  torch 
carried  by  an  attendant  just  behind 
him,  transfixes  his  game  amid  loud 
cries,  merry  laughter,  and  all  sorts 
of  the  rollicking  humor  bubbling  up 
from  the  jolly  souls  and  robust 
kmgs  of  the  roistering  youngsters, 
white  and  black,  of  the  gigging  par- 
ty. In  their  old  age  the  charm  of 
these  early  days  lingered  with  the 
brothers,  and  they  loved  to  tell  of 
their  adventures  and  exploits  of  that 
period.  But  the  life  around  them 
was  cramped    and  narrow.     Books 

7 


XopicTi  IPlcrcc. 


were  scarce,  schools  were  few  and 
inferior  in  quality.  The  children  of 
that  day  were  mostly  uneducated, 
and  they  are  pitied  by  the  children  of 
this  generation.  But  here  is  a  les- 
son for  the  children  of  this  genera- 
tion who  possess  greater  advantages 
and  opportunities.  By  the  exercise 
of  their  will  power  and  by  persistent 
self-culture  the  boys  of  that  former 
time  who  had  man  metal  in  them 
worked  on  and  up  to  success,  while- 
it  has  often  come  to  pass  in  our  day 
that  the  more  favored  children  of 
these  noble  fathers,  from  lack  of  will 
power  and  manly  effort  have  lost  in 
one  generation  what  was  achieved 
b}^  that  which  went  before  it.  In 
America  we  have  no  law  of  entail, 
and  we  want  none.  Away  with  all 
such  injustice  and  folly !  Every^ 
generation  is  entitled  to  its  own  op- 
portunity. Every  man  is  entitled  to 
his  own  chance.  That  no  man  can 
rise  above  himself  is  a  golden  truth.. 
Under  our  institutions  every  man 
can  rise  if  he  has  true  manhood  and 

8 


Xovicft  iplcrce, 

puts  forth  proper  effort.  There 
may  seem  to  be  exceptions,  but  it 
remains  forever  true  that  no  right 
effort  can  ever  be  lost.  Death  may 
seem  to  destroy  the  young  life  in 
its  flow^ering  time  and  prevent  its 
fruitage,  but  it  only  changes  the 
theater  of  its  activity  v\^ithout  arrest- 
ing its  development.  Fame  and 
promotion  may  be  delayed,  or  not 
come  at  all  in  this  sphere,  but  the 
man  remains.  The  real  success  of 
a  life  is  in  w^hat  it  is,  not  w^hat  oth- 
ers think  of  it. 

In  the  country  districts  society 
was  in  a  primitive  state  in'  those 
days.  There  w^as  a  seeming  fitness 
in  the  fact  that  the  Primitive  Bap- 
tists (or  Hard  Shells)  w^ere  the 
prevailing  religious  denomination. 
Philip  and  Lydia  Pierce,  the  father 
and  mother  of  Lovick  Pierce,  held 
to  this  persuasion,  but  were  not 
Church  members.  Philip  Pierce  is 
described  by  his  grandson,  the 
bishop,  as  "  a  quiet  man,  reticent 
in  conversation  and   inclined  to   re- 

9 


%ovic\{  iplerce. 


pose,  but  capable,  when  roused,  of 
intense  excitement  and  bitter  preju- 
dice." This  is  a  picture  of  what 
might  be  cahed  a  natural  "  Hard 
Shell."  His  hostility  to  the  Meth- 
odists was  marked ;  their  tenets 
crossed  his  pet  notions  ;  their  meth- 
ods roused  his  special  indignation. 
It  was  from  the  first  a  fight  to  the 
death  between  these  "  Hard  Shells  " 
and  the  Methodists.  There  could 
be  no  compromise  between  the  ul- 
tra-Calvinism, which  ran  into  actual 
fatalism  of  the  one  party,  with  the 
outspoken,  soul-awakening,  joyous 
Methodism  v^^hich  made  every  man 
a  free  moral  agent  who  could  and 
must  work  out  his  own  salvation. 
That  fight  is  now  practically  ended  ; 
the  Methodists  hold  the  field. 
Many  isms,  mischievous  and  silly, 
still  live  among  us  to  confuse  and 
pervert  the  people  from  right  ways, 
but  fatalism  is  forever  banished 
from  Christian  circles  and  relegated 
to  the  dark  and  dismal  limbo  of  the 
fool  who  says  in  his  heart  that  there 

10 


3Lovlcft  pierce. 

is  no  God — the  would-be  atheist, 
whose  wish  is  father  to  his  impious 
thought. 

Philip  Pierce  hated  the  Metho- 
dists, and  refused  to  hear  any  Meth- 
odist preacher.  Fortunately  his 
family  were  not  forbidden  to  do  so. 
It  was  ah  eventful  and  happy  day 
for  the  Pierces  and  many  others 
when  for  the  first  time  the  two 
brothers,  Reddick  and  Lovick,  heard 
a  sermon  preached  by  James  Jen- 
kins, a  Methodist  preacher — "  a  son 
of  thunder,  who  preached  a  gospel 
of  fire  and  power,"  as  described  by 
one  who  kne^v  him.  Fire  and  pow- 
er !  the  words  fitly  describe  the 
preaching  of  those  plain  but  mighty 
men  of  God  of  that  time.  Blessed 
old  days !  days  of  fire  and  power 
truly !  This  fire  still  burns,  this 
power  still  abides  and  works  in  our 
Methodism.  The  flame  burns  low  ; 
the  power  is  scarcely  felt  in  many 
places ;  but  the  cloven  tongues  and 
rushing  wind  at  the  Pentecost  sym- 
bolized gifts  that  were  never  to  be 
11 


Xovlcft  ipiecce. 


withdrawn  from  the  Church  until 
every  nation,  kindred,  and  tribe  of 
earth  shall  have  seen  and  felt  the 
salvation  of  God.  But  the  Pierce 
brothers  were  not  converted  by  the 
quick  process  so  common  in  that 
day.  They  were  fully  awakened. 
Under  deep  conviction  for  sin,  they 
w^ept  and  prayed.  They  were  truly 
what  the  old  Methodists  called 
"  mourners."  It  was  six  months 
before  Reddick,  the  older  brother, 
found  deliverance ;  and  it  w^as  two 
years  before  Lovick,  the  younger 
brother,  came  out  of  the  darkness 
and  bondage  of  sin  into  the  light 
and  liberty  of  the  new  birth.  There 
is  no  earthly  record  of  the  heart 
searchings  and  heart  throes  that  pre- 
ceded their  conversion ;  they  are 
written  in  that  book  that  will  be 
opened  in  the  Great  Day.  They 
had  little  sympathy  or  help  from 
any  human  sources ;  the  preacher 
was  away  making  his  long  rounds ; 
and  there  were  no  intelligent  believ- 
ers accessible  to  them.     They  joined 

12 


Xovick  ipierce. 

the  Church  as  "  seekers  "  in  the  sum- 
mer of  1802,  the  father  and  mother 
and  oldest  sister  having  joined  three 
weeks  before.  Lovick's  conversion 
took  place  in  1803.  Thomas  Darley 
and  John  Campbell  were  the  preach- 
ers in  charge.  On  the  day  of  his  con- 
version was  seen  the  startling  phe- 
nomenon of  the  sudden  falling  dow^n 
of  sinners  as  the  first  sign  of  con- 
viction— "  which  event,"  said  he, 
*'  almost  always  issued  in  a  clear  and 
manifest  conversion."  For  himself 
he  says :  "  I  was  never  the  subject 
of  this  power  save  in  a  limited  de- 
gree." This  statement  may  be  tak- 
en as  a  testimony  on  his  part  that 
he  believed  the  power  to  be  from 
God,  and  yet  that  it  -was  only  an 
incidental  and  transient  feature  of  a 
genuine  v^^ork  of  saving  grace, 
though  he  tells  us  that  "  on  the  day 
he  found  comfort  in  a  conscious 
faith  his  emotions  were  intense  and 
uncontrollable.  He  felt  as  if  he 
were  sinking  through  the  floor,  and 
when  he  found  the  Saviour  nigh  his 

13 


Xovicft  ipierce. 


emotions  of  joy  were  alike  intense^ 
He  had  his  hours  of  darkness  a  few 
days  after  this,  but  at  last  he  settled 
down  into  a  calm  serenity  of  reli- 
gious life." 

At  this  point  a  few  words  may  be 
given  concerning  the  man  of  God 
under  whose  preaching  Reddick 
and  Lovick  Pierce  were  first  awak- 
ened. 

''After  I  entered  the  ministry  and 
was  stationed  in  Charleston,"  says 
Bishop  Pierce,  "  I  occasionally  met 
'Jimmy  Jenkins,'  as  he  was  famil- 
iarly called.  He  was  then  old,  bro- 
ken down,  superannuated  ;  but  the 
fire  of  his  youth  still  burned  in  his 
bones.  He  commonly  declined  to 
preach  in  the  city,  but  would  con- 
clude service  with  prayer.  And 
such  praying  !  Soul,  voice,  strength 
— all  went  in.  The  sound  was  as  the 
roar  of  a  tempest,  ablaze  with  light- 
ning, and  pealing  with  thunder.  I 
gazed  upon  the  old  man  with  a  holy 
awe  and  felt  that  his  speech  was  a 
benediction.     He    was    one    of    the 

14 


Xovfcft  pierce. 

'  thundering'  legion  '  who  saved  this 
country  from  French  atheism  and 
from  the  debauchery  of  universal 
dissipation." 

Lovick  Pierce  never  doubted  his 
conversion ;  but  he  had,  as  many 
other  true  converts  have  had,  sea- 
sons or  moods  of  depression  in 
which  he  "  mourned  the  loss  of 
grace,"  losing  the  conscious  joy  of 
faith  without  being  conscious  of  any 
willful  commission  of  positive  sin  or 
neglect  of  known  duty.  His  aim  was 
high  and  his  human  helps  were  few. 
"  I  suppose,"  he  said,  "we  [his  broth- 
er and  himself  J  were  the  first  young 
men  ever  known  in  those  days  to  be- 
come religious,  and  especially  under 
Methodist  views  of  religion — to  aim 
to  live  without  sinning."  To  live 
without  sinning  I  How  strangely 
that  language  must  have  sounded 
in  the  ears  of  the  people  who  be- 
lieved in  absolute,  universal,  eternal 
election  for  the  elect,  hopeless  repro- 
bation for  the  nonelect,  and  imputed 
righteousness  as  a  substitute  for  the 
B  *s 


Xovicft  ipierce. 


personal  holiness  and  obedience  of 
the  gospel !  To  live  without  sin- 
ning was  his  aim.  Starting  thus,  he 
went  forward  in  the  new  life  he 
had  begun.  Both  the  brothers  be- 
came active  workers  in  the  Church. 
Reddick  was  licensed  as  an  exhort- 
er ;  Lovick  was  appointed  class 
leader  in  the  society  ^vhere  they 
held  their  membership. 

On  a  certain  Sabbath  day  they 
went  to  one  of  the  monthly  meetings 
of  the  "  Hard  Shell "  Baptists.  The 
preacher,  an  old  man  greatly  be- 
loved and  admired  by  his  people, 
made  Methodisin  the  target  of  all 
his  arrows ;  "  they  flew  thick  and 
fast,  barbed  and  poisoned.  [We 
quote  from  Bishop  Pierce.]  When 
he  had  delivered  his  message  he 
concluded  by  remarking  that  if 
any  one  in  the  congregation  wished 
to  add  a  word,  the  privilege  would 
be  allowed.  For  a  moment  silence 
reigned,  vs^hen  the  older  brother, 
to  the  utter  consternation  of  the 
younger,    rose    and    commenced    a 

16 


Xovick  Tpierce. 

fiery  exhortation.  He  spoke  with 
all  the  fervor  of  his  first  love,  feel- 
ing that  Providence  and  the  Spirit 
had  furnished  the  opportunity  and 
called  him  to  work  for  the  Master 
and  for  souls.  With  close-shut 
eyes,  as  if  he  would  hide  from  his 
vision  all  that  might  embarrass  him, 
and  with  stentorian  voice  he  poured 
out  the  terrors  of  the  law  and  the 
invitations  of  the  gospel.  Soon  the 
pov^^er  of  God  came  down  upon  the 
people,  and  they  fell  from  their  seats 
until  the  floor  was  covered  with 
their  prostrate  bodies.  Screams  and 
prayers  and  shouts  from  the  awe- 
struck crowd  mingled  in  wild  con- 
fusion. The  voice  of  the  speaker, 
unbroken,  rang  clear  and  distinct 
above  the  roar  of  the  multitude. 
Many  leaped  out  of  the  windows 
and  fled  in  dismay.  The  exercises 
went  on  till  the  slant  shadows 
of  the  evening  grew  long  and 
warned  them  of  approaching  night. 
When  the  storm  had  lulled  and  the 
old  preacher  was  about  to  retire,  he 


ILovicft  ipferce* 


rose,  wiping  his  eyes,  and  said  :• 
'  Well,  brethren,  we  have  seen 
strange  things  to-day,  and  I  cannot 
hut  own  the  presence  of  God.' 
This  scene  was  inexplicable  by  any 
of  the  theories  then  current.  A 
beardless  boy — one  of  themselves, 
a  neighbor's  son  well  known  among 
them — had  come  right  into  their- 
camp,  their  own  meetinghouse,  on 
the  day  of  regular  service,  and, 
in  the  presence  of  their  venerable 
minister,  by  a  few  words  of  exhor- 
tation had  enacted  the  same  scenes, 
which  they  had  ascribed  to  witch- 
craft. The  spirit  of  persecution, 
was  scotched,  though  not  killed. 
New  friends  were  found,  for  fresh 
converts  were  made." 

Soon  Lovick,  the  younger  broth-- 
er,  felt  that  he  was  called  to  preach. 
From  his  early  boyhood  he  had  an 
impression  that  he  was  to  be  a 
preacher — no  uncommon  thing  in 
the  experience  of  men  truly  called 
of  God  to  this  function,  as  many 
whose  eyes  will  fall  upon  this  page 

18 


OLovicft  pierce, 

'would  doubtless  testify  with  regard 
to  themselves.  Even  in  those  early 
days  "  he  would  sometimes  find 
himself  preaching  as  he  was  walk- 
ing alone,  and  was  at  times  so  car- 
ried away  by  his  feelings  as  to  be 
overwhelmed  with  weeping.  He 
resisted  the  call  for  nearly  two 
years,  and  his  religious  peace  disap- 
peared. He  said  to  himself  :  '  I  am 
not  called !  I  am  too  ignorant ! ' 
He  afterwards  said  :  '  It  then  never 
entered  into  ixiy  mind  that  a  call  to 
preach  is  a  call  to  prepare.'  "  But  he 
was  as  providentially  led  as  he  was 
truly  called  to  the  work  he  was  to 
do  as  a  preacher.  He  may  tell  the 
story  in  his  own  words  : 

My  pastor,  Rev.  Thomas  Darley, 
knowing  my  trouble  of  mind,  gave  me,  of 
his  own  accord,  a  license  to  exhort,  and 
appointed  me  a  class  leader  at  a  new 
:preaching  place  twelve  miles  from  my 
father's.  The  people  all  concluded  that 
I  was  a  preacher,  and  so  announced 
me,  and  on  my  first  appointment  when 
I  reached  the  place  (it  was  a  private 
house)  every  hole  and  corner  was  a  jam 
of  people.     My  father  was  a  military  of- 


Xovicft  iPierce. 


ficer — militia,  of  course — and  my  brothef 
and  mj'self  had  accompanied  him  to  so 
manj'  large  militarj  parades — for  in  those 
days  miUtia  musters  used  to  be  as  regular 
and  nearly  as  certain  as  the  changes  of 
the  moon — that  we  had  become  widely 
known,  and  the  report  that  the  son  of 
Capt.  Pierce  would  preach  at  this  place 
was  enough  to  bring  out  all  the  country, 
and  so  it  did.  I  was  never  in  such  a 
fright  in  all  my  life.  I  halted,  tried  to 
pray,  rolled  on  the  clean  grass,  afraid  to 
go  back  and  give  it  up;  and  felt  as  if  to 
face  the  crowd  as  a  preacher  was  more 
than  flesh  and  blood  could  endure.  I 
cried  to  God  for  help  and  direction  until 
I  must  go  in  or  give  it  up.  I  did  go  in, 
and  that  day  sealed  iny  destiny  as  to 
preaching.  I  read  a  lesson,  sang  a 
hymn,  and  exhorted — all  of  which  con- 
sumed about  thirty  minutes.  I  left  with- 
out dinner,  because  my  mind  was  so  agi- 
tated that  all  desire  for  food  was  gone ; 
and  now  my  mind  was  plied  with  the 
very  natural  temptation  that  I  had  done 
wrong,  because  my  religious  comforts 
Avere  all  wasted  in  my  long  refusal  to 
obey  my  impressions  to  preach;  Satan 
himself  now  admitted  that  there  had  been 
a  time  when  I  might  have  done  it,  but 
suggested  that  now  I  had  sinned  away  the 
Spirit  and  could  not  rightfully  do  it.  In 
this  perplexed  state  of  mind  I  said  in  my 
20 


%ovic\{  ipierce. 

heart  as  unto  God :  "  I  will  fill  m v  next 
appointment,  and  if  there  is  any  sign  of 
divine  approval  I  will  never  ask  for  any 
other  sign  of  assurance  that  it  is  my  duty 
to  preach."  I  went  at  the  time,  and  the 
Lord  came  down  in  mighty  power,  and 
in  a  few  weeks  every  family  in  the  settle- 
ment was  in  the  Church.  I  kept  my 
promise,  and  have  never  doubted  my  call 
to  preach  from  that  day  to  this. 

Thus  began  a  ministry  of  the 
gospel  of  Jesus  Christ  as  remarka- 
ble for  its  length  as  for  its  fidelity 
and  fruitfulness. 

The  two  brothers  were  admitted 
"on  trial"  into  the  South  Carolina 
Conference  during  the  Christmas 
holidays  in  December,  1S04.  At 
that  time  the  territory  of  that  Con- 
ference embraced  a  large  part  of 
North  Carolina,  all  of  South  Caro- 
lina, and  all  the  settled  portions  of 
Georgia  and  Florida.  The  elder 
brother  was  appointed  to  Little 
River  Circuit,  and  the  younger  to 
Pedee. 

Eight  souls  were  converted  under 
the  first  sermon  of  the  young 
preacher  on  the  Pedee  Circuit, 
21 


!!Lovicft  Ipierce, 


From  the  start  his  ministry  was 
fruitful  and  his  improvement  as  a 
preacher  steady  as  well  as  rapid. 
He  became  a  great  preacher.  In 
the  deep  spirituality  of  his  soul,  in 
the  originality  and  sweep  of  his 
thought,  in  the  keenness  with  which 
he  dissected  error,  in  the  boldness 
with  -which  he  exposed  wrongdo- 
ing, in  the  tenderness  of  his  pity  for 
sinners,  in  the  dignity  and  benignity 
of  his  presence,  and  most  of  all 
in  that  indefinable  yet  divinest  of  all 
the  gifts  that  constitute  the  equip- 
ment of  the  minister  of  the  gospel, 
the  unction  that  marked  him  from 
the  first  and  never  left  him  to  the 
last — in  all  these  elements  of  great- 
ness he  towered  a  prince  among  his 
fellows  from  1S04  to  1884.  Eighty 
years  a  preacher  !  What  memories 
crowd  upon  the  mind  in  thinking  of 
this  wonderful  ministerial  career ! 
What  marvels  of  power,  what  mir- 
acles of  grace  rise  before  our  men- 
tal vision  !  Methodism  during 
eighty  years  made  a  history  in 
22 


Xovicft  ipierce, 

America  that  demonstrates  its  prov- 
idential origin  and  purpose  as  a 
movement  born  of  God  and  guided 
by  his  hand.  The  little  one  has  be- 
come a  thousand,  and  the  thousand 
has  multiplied  into  millions.  And 
v\^hat  images  of  saintly  and  mighty 
men,  his  contemporaries,  rise  before 
our  mental  vision  as  we  look  back 
upon  these  blessed  decades  !  Men 
of  two  generations  and  almost  a 
third,  nearly  spanning  the  most  bril- 
liant century  in  the  history  of  this 
planet  as  it  sweeps  on  its  orbit  to 
the  destiny  that  God  has  in  store  for 
it,  here  they  come  trooping  :  Mc- 
Kendree,  Capers,  Wightman,  Long- 
street,  Glenn,  Myers,  Dougherty, 
Evans,  Martin,  Early,  Lee,  Olin, 
Smith,  Bascom,  McFerrin,  Winans, 
Alexander,  Kavanaugh,  Green, 
Doggett,  Soule,  Edwards,  Potter, 
Brock,  Wiley,  Munsey,  Bonnell, 
Anthony,  Bledsoe,  Andrew,  Mar- 
vin, McAnally,  Deems,  Parker, 
Alexander,  Hamilton,  Reid,  Mar- 
shall, and  besides  these  a  great  com- 

33 


Xovicft  pierce. 


pany  of  men  scarcely  inferior  in 
goodness  and  greatness,  the  men- 
tion of  whom  one  by  one  inust  be 
omitted  in  this  place.  Among  them 
all  he  stands  the  peer  of  any  as  a 
preacher  of  the  gospel.  This  "was 
his  one  work  ;  this  one  thing  he  did 
with  all  his  might.  Consecration 
and  concentration  "was  the  secret  of 
his  power.  The  Bible  was  the 
Book  of  books  to  him.  He  dug 
deep  in  that  richest  mine.  Of  ec- 
clesiastical history  he  knew  but  lit- 
tle, and  of  general  literature  still- 
less.  Shakespeare  he  never  read; 
of  Byron  he  knew  nothing,  and  was 
none  the  worse  for  it.  One  novel 
he  did  read,  and  one  only — "  The 
Fool  of  Quality" — a  trashy  and 
transient  book  of  which  Mr.  Wes- 
ley strangely  spoke  a  kindly  word. 
One  such  book  was  enough  for 
him.  He  was  a  man  of  one  Book, 
and  that  one  Book  made  him  a 
great  man.  The  great  thoughts  of 
God  made  him  great  in  the  pulpit 
and  everywhere   else.     The  young 


preacher  of  to-day,  who  affects 
"  culture "  and  tries  to  read  every- 
thing, may  pity  the  ignorance  and 
narrowness  of  Lovick  Pierce  in  this 
line  of  things ;  but,  judged  by  the 
fruits  of  his  life,  the  thoughtful: 
Christian  reader,  young  or  old, 
will  be  likely  to  conclude  that  if  he 
erred  at  all  in  this  matter,  the  grand 
old  preacher  erred  in  the  right  di- 
rection, on  the  safe  side.  He  grew 
to  the  stature  of  an  intellectual  giant, 
because  his  mind  was  naturally  of 
largest  mold,  and  he  fed  it  on  the 
best  food.  He  was  logical  and  met- 
aphysical in  turn.  His  imagination 
was  bold  and  its  flights  were  lofty 
and  on  steady  wing.  He  had  a 
well-disciplined,  well-balanced  mind 
despite  his  lack  of  scholastic  training. 
With  collegiate  education,  a  wider 
range  of  reading,  and  freer  use  of 
the  pen,  he  might  have  left  more 
enduring  evidences  of  his  extraordi- 
nary ability.  Perhaps,  on  the  whole, 
he  might  have  done  more  good  dur- 
ing his  lifetime.     Perhaps  not. 

25 


%ovic]{  ipiercc. 


He  was  a  Georgian  from  his 
early  manhood,  and  his  modes  of 
thought  and  expression  and  his  man- 
ners were  molded  accordingly.  The 
stir  and  push  of  a  new  community  in 
the  development  of  a  new  country, 
the  collision  of  antagonizing  forces 
striving  for  the  ixiastery  in  both 
Church  and  State,  struck  the  fire  of 
genius  from  the  hard  flint  of  native 
intellect.  The  contact,  so  to  speak, 
of  the  alkalies  and  acids  of  radical 
ideas  on  the  one  hand  and  conserva- 
tive ideas  on  the  other  in  the  forma- 
tive period  of  the  history  of  the 
State  caused  an  effervescence  among 
the  masses  of  its  people  that  was 
unceasing  in  its  action  and  tended  to 
clarify  their  thought  and  keep  them 
moving  on  the  lines  of  genuine  ma- 
terial and  moral  advancement.  Such 
men  as  Forsyth,  Toombs,  Stephens, 
Lumpkin,  Hill,  and  the  Cobbs  in  civil 
life,  and  such  men  as  Talmage,  El- 
liott, Church,  Landrum,  the  Pierces, 
and  others  in  the  churches,  made  it 
impossible  that  there  should  be  ei- 

20 


Xovicft  HMerce. 

ther  stagnation  or  backward  move- 
ment in  that  live  Commonwealth. 
Georgia  has  always  been  hospitable 
to  newcomers  and  fresh  thought 
within  her  borders.  Her  native 
sons  love  her  with  a  filial  love  that 
is  full  of  pride  and  tenderness,  and 
her  adopted  children  are  glad  to 
claim  her  as  their  mother. 

As  a  preacher  his  voice  and  man- 
ner sviited  the  matter  of  his  dis- 
course. It  was  truly  described  as 
deep,  full,  and  flexible  as  a  flute, 
and,  at  will,  percussive  as  a  peal 
of  thunder.  It  is  stated  as  a  fact, 
by  one  who  knew  whereof  he 
spoke,  that  he  had  preached  three 
sermons  in  a  day,  each  three  hours 
long,  and  then  sung  the  doxology 
with  as  clear  a  tone  as  when  he  rose 
in  the  morning !  Power  and  melo- 
dy were  happily  combined  in  his 
speech,  and  symbolized  the  vigor  of 
his  mind'  and  the  delicacy  of  his  feel- 
ings. He  was  cast  in  the  mold  of 
original  Methodism. 

H^  and.  his  son.  Bishop  George 

27 


Xovick  ipierce. 


F.  Pierce,  lived  together  in  the 
same  house  for  many  years,  and 
never  v\^ere  a  father  and  son  more 
affectionately  appreciative  of  each 
other.  Each  honestly  thought  the 
other  the  noblest  of  men  and  the 
greatest  of  preachers.  Their  mutual 
admiration  offended  no  right-mind- 
ed, generous  person.  They  differed 
somewhat  on  a  question  of  polemics 
that  has  since  caused  some  trouble 
among  our  Methodist  people.  Each 
held  his  own  view  with  tenacity  and 
defended  it  earnestly.  But  this  dif- 
ference never  for  a  moment  alien- 
ated or  chilled  their  affection  for 
each  other,  or  cast  the  least  shadow 
upon  their  spirits.  They  both  be- 
lieved that  holiness  is  the  essence 
of  the  Christian  life,  and  both  con- 
formed their  own  lives  to  this  belief. 
But  they  agreed  to  disagree  as  to 
the  terms  in  which  the  doctrine 
might  be  stated — this  way  or  that — 
and  granted  to  all  other  sincere  souls 
the  liberty  they  claimed  and  exer- 
cised   for    themselves.     Why    may 

28 


Xovicft  ipicrce. 

not  all  of  us  do  likewise  ?  We  imtst 
not  lower  the  scriptural  standard ; 
we  can  keep  the  peace  among  our- 
selves.    God  helping  us,  we  will ! 

A  simple  outline  of  his  life  is 
enough  here:  Born  in  17S5;  con- 
verted in  1803  ;  began  to  preach  in 
1804 ;  admitted  into  the  traveling 
connection  in  1805  ;  married  to  Miss 
Ann  Foster  in  1809;  served  as 
soldier  and  chaplain  in  the  war  of 
1812  with  Great  Britain;  studied 
medicine  and  practiced  that  profes- 
sion six  years ;  reentered  the  regu- 
lar ministry  in  1823  ;  was  a  delegate 
to  the  first  delegated  General  Con- 
ference of  American  Methodism ; 
took  a  conspicuous  part  in  the  mem- 
orable General  Conference  of  1844; 
\vas  fraternal  delegate  to  the  north- 
ern branch  of  the  Church ;  was  the 
first  agent  appointed  by  his  Confer- 
ence for  the  Wesleyan  Female  Col- 
lege, of  which  he  was  a  trustee  for 
more  than  thirty-five  years ;  was 
again  appointed  fraternal  messenger 
to    our    sister   Methodism  in   1876; 

29 


Itovicft  iPierce-. 


and  died  November  9,  1879,  nearly 
ninety-five  years  old.  He  filled  cir- 
cuits, stations,  and  districts  in  suc- 
cession, taking  a  front  rank  at  a 
very  early  date  and  maintaining  it 
to  the  end. 

These  golden  sentences,  written 
by  his  son,  the  bishop,  describe 
Lovick  Pierce  as  he  knew  him,  and 
would  have  received  the  indorse- 
ment of  a  multitude  of  devout  and 
sensible  persons  who  were  his  con- 
temporaries, neighbors,  and  friends  : 

I  knew  him  familiarly  in  his  public 
and  private  life,  his  sentiments  and  hab- 
its, his  business  and  conversation,  and 
now  bear  witness  that  I  have  never 
known  a  more  consistent,  painstaking,, 
uniform  Christian  man.  He  was  some- 
times highly  demonstrative,  but  com- 
monly quiet;  yet  always  tender,  quick  of 
feeling,  and  ready  to  respond  to  pathos  in 
word  or  scene  or  providence.  He  was 
full  of  all  generous  sympathies.  Charity, 
the  bond  of  perfectness,  girdled  all  his 
virtues.  The  law  of  kindness  was  upon 
his  tongue:  he  spoke  evil  of  no  man.  Fer- 
tile in  apology  for  the  wroeg,  he  was  al- 
ways prompt  to  condone  and  forgive 
Guileless  and  unsuspecting,  his  credulity^ 


Xovicft  Ipierce. 


made  him  the  victim  of  the  plausible  and 
the  artful,  and  when  deceived  and 
wronged  he  would  excuse  and  confide 
again.  I  wish  to  put  it  upon  record  that 
I  never  heard  him  speak  adversely  of 
any  preacher,  or  pronounce  a  harsh  or 
unfavorable  judgment  of  any  sermon. 
Even  where  a  man  was  under  charges, 
and  the  evidence  strong  against  him,  he 
would  hope  against  hope  that  the  case 
was  not  as  bad  as  it  seemed.  When  a 
sermon  was  dull,  dreary,  insipid,  and  all 
were  muttering  in  complaint  or  disgust, 
he  could  find  something  good  in  it. 
Young  men  often  dreaded  to  preach  be- 
fore him,  but  he  was  always  the  kindest 
auditor  in  the  crowd,  the  easiest  to 
please,  and  the  most  certain  not  to  find 
fault.  His  brethren  will  remember  that 
in  Conference  business  he  was  always  on 
the  side  of  mercy  and  forbearance.  An 
idle,  secular,  worldly-minded  preacher  he 
could  not  tolerate,  and  he  introduced  into 
the  Discipline  the  clause  which  invests 
the  Annual  Conference  with  power  to 
rid  itself  of  the  unacceptable — the  secu- 
lar and  inefficient. 

There  he  stands  in  the  pulpit  with 
his  hand  on  the  open  Bible,  the 
great  Georgia  preacher,  Lovick 
Pierce — tall,  straight,  slender  ;  his 
height  five  feet  ten  and  a  half  inches  ; 

C  31 


Xovicft  ipierce. 

weight  one  hundred  and  forty -five 
pounds  ;  hair  black  ;  eye  dark  hazel, 
flashing  like  fire  and  expressive  of 
all  shades  of  feeling  and  every 
changing  thought ;  nose  thin  and 
prominent ;  a  mouth  firm,  but  flexi- 
ble ;  complexion,  clear-blooded  bru- 
nette or  swarthy  ;  with  a  majesty  of 
presence  and  grace  of  manner  all  his 
own  and  not  to  be  put  in  words. 
There  he  stands,  as  firmly  fixed  in 
the  reverence  and  love  of  Georgia 
Methodism  and  of  all  our  vast  Con- 
nection as  Stone  Mountain  rests  upon 
its  granite  base.  For  successive  dec- 
ades he  lingered  among  us,  ripening 
in  Christian  character,  mellowing  in 
the  sunshine  of  the  Lord,  the  un- 
titled patriarch  of  our  Methodism. 
His  epitaph  might  be  written  in 
the  words  of  Bishop  McTyeire,  on 
page  678  of  his  »  History  of  Meth- 
odism : " 

So  puDasioJ  hiKB  tf)t  fnflueitw 
©f  ti)at  pure  anlj  pobDufuI  Hit, 
l^t  sums  2«t  to  Hot. 

32 


Xan^on  Cabell  (Barlanb, 

1810-1895. 


GENTLEMAN  and  a  schol- 
ar— these  well  worked  epi- 
thets have  special  signifi 
'Cance  when  applied  to  this  man. 
Look  closely  to  their  meanings,  and 
then  make  no  discount  upon  them  as 
here  used.  A  Christian  man — he 
was  truly  what  those  words  imply  :  a 
manly  character  in  the  best  sense  of 
the  word  according  to  popular  usage 
plus  the  elements  of  Christlikeness 
that  are  assimilated  by  union  with 
Him  who  is  in  a  sense  separate  from 
all  others  and  above  all  others,  the 
Son  of  Man  and  the  Son  of  God — 
the  man  Christ  Jesus.  These  fa- 
miliar descriptives  broaden  and 
deepen  in  their  meanings  when  now 
and  then  we  see  a  man  like  this. 
Thus  do  living  recipients  and  dis- 
pensers of  the  grace  of  God  vivify 


Xan&on  Cabell  ©arlanO. 


the  letter  of  the  Word  that  tells  vis 
what  Christianity  is  in  its  essence 
and  fruits.  A  gentleman  both  in 
the  neatness  of  his  person  and  ap 
parel — whether  in  the  laboratory, 
the  lecture  room,  the  parlor,  or  the 
sanctuary — there  was  a  simplicity^ 
elegance,  and  dignity  that  became 
hiiTi  as  such.  A  gentleman  not  in 
the  artificialities  of  the  social  con- 
ventionalist, nor  in  the  bowings, 
scrapings,  smirkings,  and  exuberant 
civilities  of  the  weakling  or  vulga- 
rian playing  the  role  of  gentleman, 
but  a  gentleman  whose  dignity  w^as 
inborn  and  the  expression  of  self 
poise  and  self-respect,  whose  urban 
ity  was  the  outflow  of  a  kindly  na- 
ture refined  by  true  culture.  A 
Christian  whose  lofty  ideal  and  as 
pirations  pitched  to  the  New  Testa- 
ment standard  that  looks  to  union 
with  God,  participation  in  his  na- 
ture, yet  exhibited  a  humility  that 
gave  an  added  beauty  to  the  rounded 
character,  a  fragrance  to  the  flower 

34 


XanDon  Cabell  ©arlanO. 


of  genuine  Christian  manhood.  A 
Christian  man — yes,  he  was  a  man 
through  and  through,  not  an  actor, 
not  a  fanatic,  not  a  dreamer,  not  a 
visionary,  but  a  man  among  men — a 
man  with  the  instincts,  appetites, 
impulses,  affinities,  repulsions,  con- 
scious disabilities  and  limitations, 
sacred  privacies,  spontaneous  sym- 
pathies and  unconscious  heroisms  of 
a  manhood  w^hich  was  the  product 
of  a  good  heredity,  favoring  envi- 
ronment, and  cooperative  personal 
exertion.  Those  Virginia  Garlands 
and  Cabells  vv^ere  brainy,  high-spir- 
ited, positive  in  their  convictions, 
punctilious  yet  magnanimous  on 
their  best  side — typical  Virginians. 
When  any  of  them  went  wrong — as 
in  all  family  connections  some  do — 
even  the  fragments  of  the  moral 
wrecks  exhibited  the  richness  of  the 
material  in  their  composition. 

To  say  that  the  family  tree 
reached  its  finest  fruitage  in  the 
man  whose  name  heads  this  sketch 

35 


XanDon  Cabell  GarlanD, 


is  but  stating  a  sober  fact.  He  was. 
rounded  and  symmetrical  as  well  as 
capacious  in  his  personalit}'. 

His  environment  during  the  early 
and  formative  period  of  his  life  was 
the  Virginia  of  the  aiite  belhim 
times  —  "  Old  Virginia  "  —  the  old 
Virginia  where  every  voter  was  a 
politician  and  every  schoolboy  was 
an  incipient  statesman  ;  where  pop- 
idar  oratory  was  a  passion ;  where 
hospitality  was  lavished  on  a  scale 
that  had  come  down  from  the  old 
colonial  days  of  big  land  grants, 
much  leisure  and  little  work  for  the 
ruling  class ;  where  the  family  life 
was  patriarchal,  the  white  members 
kindly  imperious  or  imperiously 
kind,  the  black  people  mostly  jolly 
and  loyal,  a  few  dreaming  of  the 
freedom  that  was  to  come  one  day, 
the  many  with  visions  of  a  heavea 
that  was  vei-y  tangible  to  their  sim- 
ple, ardent  souls,  a  heaven  made  up 
of  song  and  i-est  and  tropical  spec- 
tacularity,  if  we  may  coin  the  word  ;, 

36 


XanOon  Cabell  ©arlanD. 


where  men  of  the  world,  so-called, 
were  punctilious  as  to  their  honor, 
and  the  women  were  homekeepers 
in  a  true  sense  because  they  had 
homes  to  keep,  and  had  not  yet 
caught  the  inspiration — or,  if  the 
reader  prefers  the  term,  the  infec- 
tion— of  the  new  ideas  now  afloat 
concerning  the  new  woman  ;  where 
tippling  houses  were  few  and  the 
men  took  their  morning  drams  and 
midday  toddies  and  bedtime  "  night- 
caps "  as  a  matter  of  course  ;  *  where 
Easter,  Whitsuntide,  and  Christmas 
were  big  holidays  when  fun  and  frol- 
ic were  abundant  and  the  incidental 
religious  observances  not  obtrusive 
or  protracted  ;  where  the  Episcopa- 
lians had  been  intrenched  since  the 
days  of  colonial  tutelage  and  tithes, 
the  Presbyterians  and  Baptists  were 
running  a  race  by  land  and  water, 
and   where   the    Methodists,   in   the 

*The  wisest  Virginians  of  to-day  dis- 
pense with  both  toddies  and  the  tippling 
houses. 

37 


XanDon  Cabell  ©arlanD. 


flush  of  their  first  successes,  were 
shaking  the  land  with  the  tramp  of 
their  moving  hosts  and  making  it 
vocal  with  the  music  of  their  songs. 
That  w^as  Old  Virginia  in  the  ear- 
lier decades  of  this  century — the 
Old  Virginia  of  Garland's  childhood 
and  youth.  It  is  now  gone.  What 
was  good  in  it,  intrinsically  imper- 
ishable because  it  xvas  good,  being 
rooted  in  God,  the  source  of  all 
good,  remains  in  its  essence  ;  what 
was  bad  in  it  ^ve  may  thankfully  be- 
lieve has  perished,  as  all  evil  things 
must  perish,  because  they  are  rooted 
in  the  finite  and  perishable. 

That  young  Garland  became  a 
Methodist  at  that  time  was  not  for- 
tuitous. His  mother,  under  God, 
gave  him  the  touch  that  moved  him 
in  this  direction.  She  was  a  w^oman 
of  marked  individuality  and  large- 
ness of  nature.  Her  prayers,  her 
teaching,  her  example,  entered  the 
'weh  and  woof  of  her  son's  life.  In 
her  crown  he   will   shine   as   a   star  , 

38 


lanDon  Cabell  ©arlanO. 


forever.  What  woman,  more  in  the 
eye  of  the  public  and  working  in 
what  might  seem  to  be  a  wider  field, 
has  done  a  better  work  than  the 
mother  of  this  man?  Blessed, 
blessed  Methodist  mothers,  with 
Susanna  Wesley  at  their  head,  what 
a  heaven  it  will  be  to  their  children, 
who  shall  one  day  see  them  all  in 
their  white  robes  and  radiant  faces 
inside  the  gates  of  the  cit}-  of  God ! 
Among  them  will  be  found  Lucinda 
Rose  Garland.  Her  name  may  not 
appear  again  in  this  sketch,  but  her 
good  influence,  like  an  angel  pres- 
ence, never  left  for  one  moment  the 
son  of  her  love  and  her  prayers. 

Neither  w^as  it  by  chance  that 
yoxing  Garland  was  sent  to  Hamp- 
:len-Sidney  College,  a  Presbyterian 
institution.  Calvinism  was  pre- 
ferred to  any  ism  tainted  with  the 
least  suspicion  of  affinity  for  the 
loose  and  lurid  French  infidelity 
which  was  then  a  sort  of  fad  in 
other    circles.        Blessings    on    the 

39 


XanDon  Cabell  (BarlanD, 


sturdy    old    Presbyterian    Church ! 
The  ruggedness  of  its  Five  Points 
has  been  smoothed  by  the  attrition 
of  time  and  the  rubbings  of  contro- 
versialists ;  its  practical  theology  has 
been  modified  by  contact  with  Ar- 
minian    ideas    and    examples ;     and 
from  time  to  time  disturbances  have 
arisen  within  its  own  body,  and  ex- 
plosions  from  within    have  thrown 
off   the    disjected    fragments,  but   it 
has  kept  on  its  wa}^  as  if  its  mem- 
bers   felt    sure   that    it   was   foreor- 
dained that  it  should  keep  step  in  the 
world's  forward  march  to   the  mil- 
lennium, and  get  there  abreast  with 
the    rest    of    the    grand    evangelical 
host,  who,  differing  on  some  points, 
liold  to  the   Head,  which  is   Christ, 
and  are  ready  to  join  joyfully  in  his 
coronation  as   Lord  of  all.  ~  Ingraft: 
healthy,  hopeful  young   jNIethodism 
on  this  old   Presbyterian  stock,  and 
the   fruit   is   rich   and   sweet   indeed. 
Reverse   the   process,  and   it   works 
nearly  as  well.     The  Methodists  and 
40 


Xan&on  Cabell  ©arlanJ). 


Presbyterians,  for  reasons  that  will 
suggest  themselves  to  the  intelligent 
and  friendly  reader,  stand  close  to- 
gether, and  ought  to  take  a  leading 
part  in  bringing  the  latter-day  tri- 
umph of  the  unified  and  glorified 
Church  of  God. 

He  finished  his  collegiate  course 
and  took  his  degree  in  1829.  His 
college  life  was  clean,  studious,  and 
manly — the  blossoming  time  of  a 
career  whose  fruitage  was  a  fulfill- 
ment of  the  promise  it  gave.  A 
great  educator  has  said  that  what  a 
youth  is  at  sixteen  indicates  ^vhat  is 
to  be  the  course  and  quality  of  his 
after  life,  and  others  of  close  obser- 
vation and  large  experience  have  in- 
dorsed the  saying.  As  a  rule  the 
saying  holds  good.  Let  any  young 
man  who  may  read  this  page  lay 
this  truth  to  heart.  Many  start  to 
perdition  from  no  "weightier  motive 
than  curiosity.  Others  start  on 
■wrong  paths,  purposing  to  go  only 
a  little  way  therein,  and  expecting  to 

41 


XanDon  Cabell  ©arlanO. 


retrace  their  steps  when  they  choose 
so  to  do.  An  unstained,  unmaimed 
youth  makes  the  sort  of  man  whose 
purity,  wholeness,  and  strength 
compel  the  homage  of  the  world. 
Better  keep  out  of  the  devil's  trap. 
Do  not  nibble  at  his  bait.  A  "  dis- 
sipated "  youth  is  likely  to  become  a 
crippled  or  degraded  man.  To  be- 
gin an  evil  course  is  to  get  on  an  in- 
clined plane  sloping  hellward.  The 
beginning  of  evil  is  as  the  lettifzg 
out  of  waters.  Do  not  allow  the  be- 
ginning, and  you  are  safe  forever. 

Immediately  after  his  graduation 
he  accepted  the  chair  of  Chemistry 
and  Physics  in  Washington  Col- 
lege (now  Washington  and  Lee), 
where  he  remained  until  1834,  v^^hen 
he  became  a  professor  in  Randolph- 
Macon  College.  Two  years  later 
(in  1836)  he  succeeded  Dr.  Stephen 
Olin  as  President  of  that  institution. 
We  pause  a  moment  at  the  name  of 
Stephen  Olin — one  of  the  earliest 
and  ablest  of  educators  in  our  Meth- 

42 


XanOon  Cabell  ©arlanO. 


odism,  whose  serene  and  stately  fig- 
ure moved  grandly  among  the  actors 
in  the  stormy  times  that  followed  ;  a 
conservative  in  the  truest  and  best 
sense ;  a  man  who  was  willing  to 
stand  alone  for  what  seeiTied  to  him 
right ;  one  of  the  manliest  of  the  man- 
ly, one  of  the  most  lovable  of  the  lov- 
ing. A  Northern  man,  he  ^vas  at 
home  in  the  South,  with  brain  and 
heart  enough  to  see  both  sides  and 
to  love  all  the  parties  involved.  His 
fame  broadens  and  brightens  in  the 
perspective. 

His  change  from  Washington  and 
Lee  to  Randolph-Macon  was  char- 
acteristic of  Dr.  Garland.  There 
was  more  money  in  the  one  place, 
but  more  usefulness  in  the  other. 
He  was  a  Christian,  and  measured 
his  obligations  in  everything  by  a 
Christian  standard.  He  was  a  Meth- 
odist, and  he  felt  that  Methodism 
had  a  paramount  claim  to  his  serv- 
ice. He  "  belonged  "  to  his  Church 
not  in  the  conventional  sense  that  his 

43 


Xan&on  Cabell  (5arlanO, 


name  was  on  its  register,  nor  in  the 
more  sinister  sense  that  he  might 
make  his  membership  subserve  his 
temporal  advantage  in  any  way, 
but  in  the  sense  that  it  was  entitled 
to  the  first  place  in  his  affection  and 
service  because  it  was  the  divinely 
chosen  agency  for  the  enlighten- 
ment and  salvation  of  the  human . 
race.  To  his  Church  he  was  always 
loyal.  If  he  saw  its  faults — and  no 
eye  was  quicker,  no  soul  more  can- 
did and  courageous  than  his — he  did 
not  seek  to  uncover  its  infirmities  for 
the  derision  of  its  enemies  or  to  dis- 
tract or  disrupt  its  ranks.  He  was 
no  bigot — no  true  Methodist  can  be 
a  bigot ;  the  enlightened  conscience 
and  delicate  sense  of  honor  that 
made  him  true  to  all  other  obliga- 
tions made  him  true  to  his  own 
Church. 

His  career  as  Professor  of  Phys- 
ics and  Astronomy  in  the  University 
of  Alabama,  and  as  President  of  that 
institution  ;  as  Professor  in  the  Uni 

44 


XanDon  Cabell  (5arlanD. 


versity  of  Mississippi ;  as  President 
of  the  Southwest  Alabama  Rail- 
road, to  which  he  devoted  two 
years ;  and  last,  and  most  f ruitf vil  of 
all,  his  Chancellorship  of  Vanderbilt 
University,  may  not  be  here  traced 
in  detail.  A  spotless,  busy,  fruitful 
life  it  was ;  everywhere  and  always 
the  same  in  its  lofty  aims  and  inspi- 
rations and  in  the  fidelity  which  he 
bestowed  upon  the  minutest  details 
of  his  daily  work.  Take  that  life 
out  of  the  educative  forces  that  have 
given  our  land  its  intellectual  uplift 
and  moral  advancement,  and  no  hu- 
man intelligence  could  tell  how  great 
would  be  the  loss. 

But  it  w^as  as  Chancellor  of  Van- 
derbilt University  that  he  did  his 
best  work.  He  was  its  first  Chan- 
cellor, and  filled  the  office  for  sixteen 
years,  from  1875  to  1 891.  Bishop 
McTyeire,  President  of  its  Board  of 
Trust,  knew  Dr.  Garland,  and  made 
no  haphazard  experiment  in  choos- 
ing him  for  the  work  of  organizing 
45 


XanSon  Cabell  0arlan^.. 


the  institution.  The  University  it- 
self stands  to-day  as  the  proof  of  the 
wisdom  of  the  choice.  Their  names 
will  go  down  to  future  generationr 
in  connection  with  that  of  Cornelii.s 
Vanderbilt  as  the  trinity  of  provi- 
dential agencies,  whose  joint  contri- 
butions of  money  by  the  million, 
masterly  planning  for  the  future 
and  superb  ability  and  unsurpassed 
devotion  to  present  duty  created  a 
great  University — Vanderbilt,  Mc- 
Tyeire,  Garland. 

The  "  old  Chancellor's  "  spirit  still 
seems  to  linger  lovingly  and  benig- 
nantly  about  the  halls  of  the  Uni- 
versity and  in  the  campus,  walks,, 
and  groves.  The  young  manhood 
that  came  directly  under  his  touch 
will  never  lose  his  influence ;  those 
that  will  follow  them  in  coming 
years,  a  constantly  increasing  com- 
pany, w^e  may  hope,  will  every  one 
of  them  be  better  and  nobler  men 
because    he    here    lived  and    taught 

46 


Xan&on  Cabell  OarlanO.  - 


and  played  the  man  during  these 
first  years  of  our  University. 

The  work  Chancellor  Garland  did 
was  a  great  work,  and  abides.  The 
character  of  the  man  was,  after  all, 
the  best  contribution  made  by  him 
to  the  generation  in  which  he  lived. 
The  legacy  he  left  behind  is  the 
memory  of  what  he  was,  rather  than 
what  he  said  and  did. 

Enshrined  in  the  love  and  rever- 
ence of  our  people,  he  stands  before 
us,  the  grand  Chancellor,  about  five 
feet  eight  inches  in  height ;  slender 
and  frail-looking,  yet  with  a  bearing 
that  gave  yoii  an  impression  of  sin- 
gular forcefulness  ;  the  lofty  brow, 
slightly  receding ;  the  noble  head, 
with  thin,  silver  hair ;  the  keen  but 
kindly  blue  eyes,  looking  straight  into 
yours  from  underneath  the  heavy 
eyebrows  ;  the  well-shaped  ears,  full 
large  ;  the  large  and  shapely  nose, 
such  as  is  found  on  no  common- 
place man  ;  the  orator's  mouth,  am- 
ple and  flexible  ;  the  strongly  marked, 

D  47 


XanDon  Cabell  ©arlanD, 


solid  chin — all  making  a  personality 
so  truly  distinguished  that,  seen  for 
the  first  time  in  the  largest  assem- 
bly, you  would  have  known  that  he 
was  a  man  whom  God  had  endowed 
for  leadership  among  men. 
48 


MOSES  BROCK. 

1795-1870. 


HE  was  a  mighty  man  of  many 
moods — devout,  grave,  witty. 
He  was  an  eccentric  man,  but 
it  was  unconscious  eccentricity  ;  he 
v^as  too  great  and  too  good  to  af- 
fect it.  All  who  came  in  personal 
contact  with  him  felt  that  he  was 
truly  a  man  of  God.  The  multi- 
tudes who  heard  him  preach  felt 
while  listening  to  him  that  he  was  a 
true  minister  of  the  gospel  of  Christ. 
He  was  mighty  in  the  Scriptures, 
and  had  received  from  on  high  the 
baptism  which  gives  the  breath  of 
power  and  tongue  of  fire.  In  pro- 
portion to  the  length  of  his  life  and 
the  quantity  and  quality  of  his  "work, 
the  record  of  him  is  meager,  but  an 
individuality  so  marked  and  a  career 
so  unique  could  not  fail  powerfully 

4  49 


IfkoscQ  JBrocft. 


to  impress  his  own  generation,  and! 
to  leave  to  that  which  has  followed 
a  tradition  of  him  all  the  more  fasci- 
nating because  it  is  so  elusive  and 
shadowy. 

He  was  born  September  12,  1795  ; 
whether  in  Virginia  or  North  Car- 
olina is  uncertain.  The  two  States 
were  so  interblended  in  their  early 
Methodist  history  that  we  find  the 
same  names  on  the  rolls  of  both. 
The  Virginia  Conference  embi'aced 
all  the  territory  of  both  until  1836. 
What  a  rich  inheritance  they  have- 
possessed  in  common !  What  a 
blessed  interchange  of  ministerial 
labors !  How  rich  the  gain  on 
both  sides !  The  connectionalism, 
which  is  so  marked  a  feature  of  our 
Methodism  everywhere,  in  these  two 
old  mother  Conferences,  is  made 
still  closer  by  the  hallowed  memo- 
ries they  hold  in  common. 

Brock  was  converted  in  1814.. 
He  was  converted  among  the  Meth- 
odists, and  he  joined  the  Methodist 
50 


looses  JSrocft. 


Church  without  delay.  It  was  at  a 
time  when  Methodism  was  alive 
and  aglow  in  all  that  region ;  con- 
versions were  clear ;  the  class  meet- 
ing was  its  drill  groinid,  and  young 
converts  had  to  keep  step  or  go  out. 
Brock  started  right,  and  grew  in 
^race  and  in  knowledge.  Five 
years  afterwards,  in  1S19,  "  hearken- 
ing to  a  divine  call,"  to  use  a  phrase 
well  understood  in  his  day  and  ours, 
he  at  once  began  to  preach.  The 
presiding  elder  employed  him  on 
the  Guilford  Circuit.  Among  a 
kindly  people  in  that  salubrious  and 
fruitful  Piedmont  region  he  took  his 
first  lessons  as  a  traveling  preacher, 
and  learned  how  to  preach  as  a  boy 
learns  to  swim  who  is  throv^n  into 
deep  water  and  told  that  he  must 
strike  out  or  sink.  This  was  the 
only  theological  seminary  or  train- 
ing school  our  fathers  had  at  that 
day.  They  did  well.  Their  chil- 
dren of  this  generation,  with  the 
superior  advantages  they  possess, 
51 


SRiosce  JSrocft. 


ought  to  do  better.  Brock  had' 
what  all  the  learning-  and  all  the 
honorary  degrees  in  Christendom 
cannot  impart ;  he  had  unction,  the 
anointing  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  That 
is  the  first  thing  requisite  for  a 
preacher  ;  with  that,  the  more  learn- 
ing and  training,  the  better.  Brock 
stirred  the  hearts  of  the  people,  and 
kept  the  wheels  of  Methodism  mov- 
ing as  a  "  supply  "  on  the  Guilford 
Circuit.  The  next  year  he  was  ad- 
mitted on  trial  into  the  Virginia 
Conference.  He  traveled  and 
preached  until  1854,  ranging  from 
Gloucester  in  old  Virginia  to  the 
Yadkin  in  North  Carolina,  to  Mem- 
phis in  Tennessee,  to  Paducah  in. 
Kentucky,  and  to  Aberdeen  in  Mis- 
sissippi. He  was  a  presiding  elder- 
twenty-six  years  of  the  thirty-five 
years  of  his  active  ministry.  After 
he  was  once  put  into  the  presiding 
eldership  he  was  always  kept  in  the- 
office.  He  liked  it,  the  people  liked 
it,  and  the  Church  thrived  by  it.. 
52 


/IRoses  JSrocft. 


If  ever  a  man  was  born  for  a  spe- 
cial line  of  service  in  the  Church, 
and  was  in  any  proper  sense  foreor- 
dained to  it,  Moses  Brock  was  born 
and  foreordained  to  be  a  presiding 
elder.  He  was  truly  a  Methodist,  in 
that  he  was  methodical  in  all  his  de- 
votions and  duties.  He  did  every- 
thing "  exactly  at  the  time,"  as  the 
"  Discipline  "  enjoins  ;  and  did  not 
mend  its  rules,  but  kept  them.  He 
was  an  excellent  presiding  officer. 
Five  times  he  was  elected  to  preside 
in  his  Annual  Conference  in  the  ab- 
sence of  a  bishop.  Dignity,  self- 
poise,  parliamentary  quickness,  and 
tact,  spiced  with  a  ready  wit,  all  his 
own,  made  him  an  admirable  and 
popular  presiding  officer.  He  was  a 
member  of  successive  General  Con- 
ferences by  the  choice  of  his  breth- 
ren. He  was  one  of  the  originators 
of  Randolph-Macon  College  in  Vir- 
ginia, and  of  Greensboro  Female 
College  in  North  Carolina,  and 
took  an  active  part  in  the  establish- 

53 


/Iftoses  JSroch. 


ment  of  the  Richmond  Christian 
Advocate  and  of  a  Methodist  news- 
paper in  the  city  of  Memphis. 
He  located  in  1841,  and  went  to 
Tennessee;  in  1843  he  entered  the 
Memphis  Conference,,  in  which  he 
labored  until  the  date  of  his  loca- 
tion in  1 8  "^4.  During  the  sixteen 
years  bet-\veen  this  date  and  that  of 
his  death,  one  who  knew  him  well, 
the  Rev.  Dr.  William  C.  Johnson, 
of  the  Memphis  Conference,  says 
that  he  seldom  took  part  in  any  pub- 
lic service,  bvit  illustrated  in  his 
household  the  virtues  and  graces 
which  belong  to  a  matured  religious 
character.  He  was  twice  married, 
both  times  late  in  life,  the  courtship 
in  each  case  being  about  as  brief  as 
that  of  Isaac  and  Rebecca,  There 
was  a  notable  difference  in  that 
Isaac  did  his  wooing  by  proxy,  but 
Brock  did  his  in  person.  The  par- 
ticulars would  not  read  like  a  ro- 
mance ;  they  are  omitted,  lest  some 
weakling,  lacking  Brock's  genuine- 
54 


/IRoses  3Brocli. 


ness  and  ability,  might  be  tempted 
to  ape  his  oddities. 

In  the  days  of  his  prime  great 
crowds  attended  Brock's  preaching. 
There  was  something  about  him 
that  touched  the  popular  imagina- 
tion. Like  John  the  Baptist,  he 
was  a  rugged  child  of  nature,  to 
whom  the  people  were  drawn  by  a 
sort  of  fascination  hard  to  define. 
He  preached  the  terrors  of  the  di- 
vine law  with  tremendous  earnest- 
ness, because  he  had  felt  in  his  own 
soul  the  pains  of  hell,  the  hell  of  an 
awakened  conscience.  With  a  pa- 
thos possible  only  to  one  who  had 
himself  experienced  its  blessedness, 
he  offered  to  sinners  pardoning  mer- 
cy through  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 
Brock  was  greatest  on  great  occa- 
sions. He  was  famous  as  a  camp 
meeting  preacher.  With  the  great 
congregations  before  him,  the  forest 
around  him,  and  the  sky  above  him, 
he  was  apt  to  "  s^ving  clear  "  at  the 
popular  hour,  which  was  the  eleven 
55 


^oses  JSrocft. 


o'clock  service  on  Sunday  morning. 
On  such  occasions  he  was  at  his 
best.  At  one  of  these  great  camp 
meetings  he  preached  to  a  vast 
congregation  from  the  text :  "  This 
is  a  faithful  saying,  and  w^orthy 
of  all  acceptation,  that  Christ  Je- 
sus came  into  the  v\^orld  to  save 
sinners  ;  of  whom  I  ain  chief."  (  i 
Tim.  i.  15.)  The  divine  afflatus 
was  upon  him  from  the  start,  and 
he  preached  with  extraordinary 
power  even  for  him.  The  sermon 
was  overwhelming ;  the  great  con- 
gregation was  moved  as  the  forest: 
is  moved  by  a  mighty  wind.  To- 
ward the  close  Brock's  whole  being 
seemed  to  be  roused,  all  his  faculties 
came  into  play,  his  face  beaming 
with  the  pulpit  glow  at  w^hite  heat,, 
his  voice  modulated  by  profoundi 
emotion,  as  nothing  else  can  mod- 
ulate human  speech ;  he  paused, 
looked  down  upon  the  upturned 
faces  of  that  awe-struck  assembly, 
and  said  :   "  If   there  is  in  this  con- 

56 


/IB06e6  JSrocft, 


gregation  a  man  who  feels  that  he  is 
the  chief  of  sinners,  let  him  speak, 
and  I  will  go  to  him  where  he  sits, 
and,  placing  my  hand  upon  his  head, 
tell  him  that  Christ  Jesus  came  into 
the  world  to  save  him."  "/  am  the 
man  !  "  exclaimed  a  hearer,  who  sat 
weeping  near  the  middle  of  the 
central  aisle.  Brock  solemnly  left 
the  preacher's  stand,  walked  slo-wly 
down  the  aisle  to  where  the  man 
sat,  and,  placing  his  right  hand  vipon 
his  head,  with  eyes  closed,  slowly 
repeated  the  words  of  his  text. 
There  was  a  breakdown  all  over 
that  vast  congregation.  There  was 
a  whole  evangel  in  the  scene.  This 
incident  well  illustrates  the  spirit 
and  method  of  Brock's  ministry. 

About  him  there  was  an  atmos- 
phere of  unworldliness  or  other- 
worldliness  that  was  strangely  im- 
pressive to  all  sorts  of  persons.  It 
is  said  that  in  the  earlier  period  of 
his  ministry  he  went  into  a  trance, 
and  lay  unconscious  and  scarcely 
57 


/Iftosea  JBrock. 


breathing  during-  three  days  and 
nights,  and  that  ever  afterwards 
there  was  a  marked  change  in  him 
evident  to  all  who  kne-w  him.  He 
himself  never  alluded  to  this  expe- 
rience, and  he  seemed  to  be  pained 
at  any  mention  of  it  by  other  per- 
sons. 

This  entry,  made  by  him  Novem- 
ber, 1854,  the  date  of  the  location,  is 
characteristic  in  its  candor  and  hu- 
mility : 

Upon  retrospecting  my  life,  I  see  that 
imperfection  is  stamped  on  all  mj  doings. 
Would  that  I  could  say:  "I  have  done 
the  best  that  I  could!"  But  Jesus  died, 
arose,  and  pleads  for  me.  I  am  an  un- 
profitable servant;  but  God  in  Christ  is 
my  portion  forever,  saith  my  soul. 

That  was  a  stirring-  time  in  which 
Moses  Brock  lived  and  traveled  and 
prayed  and  preached.  North  Caro- 
lina was  aglow  with  revival  fires 
which  burned  from  the  Blue  Ridge 
to  the  sea.  What  a  body  of  men  were 
his  contemporaries  and  coworkers ! 
They  made  that  epoch  illustrious  in 
58 


/llboses  :Brocft. 


our  Methodist  annals,  and  each  one 
is  worthy  of  a  separate  panel  in  our 
portrait  gallery  of  the  great  and 
good  who  made  our  Methodism 
what  it  is.  One  of  these  was  Philip 
Bruce,  of  Huguenot  blood,  first  a 
brave  soldier  in  our  War  of  the 
Revolution,  then  a  good  soldier  of 
Christ,  ^vho,  after  thirtj-'-six  years  of 
faithful  service  as  a  preacher,  and  a 
few  years  of  physical  decline  and  suf- 
fering, died  "  worth  three  hundred 
dollars,"  and  so  happy  in  God  that 
during  the  whole  of  his  last  night 
"  he  could  not  sleep  for  joy."  An  • 
other  was  Peyton  Anderson,  a  man 
learned,  modest,  discreet,  guileless, 
and  zealous  for  his  Lord,  who,  after 
nine  busy,  fruitful  years,  Avent  home 
to  God.  And  Lewis  Skidmore,  in 
whose  physical  frame  was  the 
brawn  of  the  blacksmith,  and  whose 
soul  was  strong  in  the  strength  of 
the  Lord.  He  -was  true  and  strong 
Before  his  logical  onset  no  error 
could  stand.      He  "walked  with  God, 

59 


/IRoses  :Brocft. 


and  his  light  shone  before  men. 
He  was  a  doctrinal  preacher — doc- 
trinal not  in  the  sense  that  he  loved 
to  rattle  the  dry  bones  of  contro- 
versial theology  in  the  ears  of  vs^on- 
dering  and  weary  hearers,  but  doc- 
trinal in  the  sense  that  he  made  the 
blessed  facts  and  sublime  truths  of 
divine  revelation  the  ground  of  con- 
vincing appeals  to  their  reason,  their 
consciences,  and  their  sensibilities. 
Under  his  ministry  many  were 
saved.  In  his  habits  he  was  as 
punctual  as  a  clock.  He  preached 
the  gospel  forty-four  years,  and  en- 
tered into  his  rest  in  1857.  An- 
other of  these  men  was  Hezekiah 
G.  Leigh,  a  natural  orator,  but  more 
than  that,  a  man  of  extraordinary 
spirituality,  "who  would  have  taken 
high  rank  in  any  body  of  ministers 
in  which  cominanding  intellect  and 
deep  insight  into  heavenly  things 
were  the  standards  of  measurement. 
His  character  was  happily  balanced. 
He  belonged  to  the  small  class  of 

60 


/Pboscs  JSrock. 


inen,  rounded  at  all  points,  the  fruit 
of  whose  labors  suffers  the  least  dis- 
count, and  whose  fame  brightens  in 
after  times.  He  was  faithful  and 
fearless  as  a  preacher,  watching  for 
souls  as  one  that  must  give  ac- 
count to  God.  '•'•He  made  me  smell 
brimstone!''''  said  Henry  Clay,  after 
hearing  him  preach.  That  is  the 
sort  of  preaching  that  our  states- 
men and  politicians  of  to-day  need 
to  hear.  For  thirty-four  years  he 
moved  to  and  fro  as  a  traveling 
preacher,  magnifying  his  office,  and 
with  his  eye  of  faith  fixed  upon  Je- 
sus, died  in  holy  rapture,  whisper- 
ing with  his  latest  breath  :  "  Bless 
God  for  such  a  Saviour !  "  An- 
other was  George  W.  Charlton,  a 
man  of  noble  presence,  learned, 
keen-edged  in  dissection  of  error, 
and  bold  and  skillful  in  the  spiritual 
surgery  that  saves  the  Church  from 
corruption,  and  yet  tender  and  per- 
suasive. He  was  a  great  revivalist 
in  that  day  of  great  revivals.  His 
61 


Ifkoscs  3Bvoch. 


spiritual  children  were  many,  and 
his  crown  glitters  with  many  stars. 
And  another  was  William  Comj)- 
ton,  who  entered  the  North  Carolina 
Conference  in  1809,  and  died  in 
1847 — a  strong  thinker,  a  theologian 
worthy  to  be  so  called,  whose  ser- 
mons could  never  be  forgotten,  and 
whose  gracious  personality  exhaled 
the  fragrance  of  a  soul  in  com- 
munion with  God.  His  faith  was 
as  simple  and  undoubting  as  a 
child's.  According  to  his  own  ex- 
pressed wish  and  prayer,  he  died 
suddenly,  his  ardent,  trusting  soul 
in  a  moment  taking  its  flight  to 
its  home  in  glory.  Another  was 
Abram  Penn,  the  young  doctor  of 
medicine  who,  standing  by  the 
grave  of  his  young  wife,  was 
stricken  ^vith  religious  conviction, 
and,  after  months,  of  heart  struggle 
at  a  camp  meeting,  was  "  powerful- 
ly "  converted.  Powerful  conver- 
sions were  then  the  prevalent  type. 
The  gospel,  which  is  the  power  of 

62 


/iR06es  :SBvoc\{. 


God  unto  salvation,  was  faithfully 
preached  by  men  who  had  felt  that 
power,  men  of  mighty  faith  and 
burning  zeal,  and  signs  and  won- 
ders followed.  He  joined  the  trav- 
eling connection  at  the  session  of  the 
Conference  held  at  Raleigh  in  1828. 
He  too  was  a  revivalist  of  the  ten- 
der, persuasive  sort ;  the  magnet- 
ism of  love  drew  the  people  to  him 
and  to  his  Lord.  He  was  much  be- 
loved, and  his  ministry  was  greatly 
blessed.  He  was  long  a  sufferer 
from  heart  disease,  but  worked  on 
to  the  close  of  his  life,  which  ended 
"n  great  peace.  (The  writer  of  this 
when  two  days  old  was  baptized  by 
Dr.  Penn,  for  whom  his  middle  name 
was  given.  He  was  his  mother's 
pastor  and  friend.  They  both  sleep 
in  Jesus  on  the  hills  of  Dan.)  Just 
here  rises  before  my  mind  the  im- 
age of  James  Reid,  a  man  of  God 
who  left  his  mark  upon  his  genera- 
tion. He  began  his  ministry  in 
1815,  and  was  for  fifty-seven  years 

E  63 


/IRose0  :Srocft. 


a  preacher  of  the  gospel  of  Christ. 
Of  apostolic  gravity  of  j)i'esence, 
his  strong  features  softened  by  benig- 
nity born  of  the  grace  of  God,  he 
was  a  man  of  mark.  Whether  trav- 
eling on  horseback  or  in  the  two- 
w^heeled  sulky  that  specially  suited 
the  steep  hills  and  rugged  roads  of 
that  day  and  time ;  or  as  he  stood  in 
the  pulpit  and  spoke  in  his  Master's 
name,  or  in  the  family  circles  v/here 
he  lodged  and  prayed — always  and 
everywhere  he  left  lasting  impres- 
sions. Blessed  old  "  Uncle  Jimmy 
Reid !  "  as  the  people  loved  to  call 
him,  his  name  is  as  ointment  poured 
forth,  and  his  work  abides.  Here 
they  come  trooping  :  Rufus  T.  Hef- 
Hn,  D.  B.  Nicholson,  William  An- 
derson, William  Barringer,  and 
many  more,  some  of  them  of  later 
date,  but  not  less  worthy — not  least 
among  them  all  that  puissant  Chris- 
tian warrior  and  big-brained,  big- 
hearted  man,  Peter  Doub,  v\^ho  else- 
where has  a  chapter  all  to  himself, 
64 


^oses  aSroch, 


and  whose  capacious  personality 
still  grows  upon  the  Church  as  the 
years  go  by.  Such  were  the  men 
with  whom  Moses  Brock  labored 
during  those  stirring,  blessed  dec- 
ades when  Methodism  of  the  best 
type  was  striking  its  roots  into  the 
soil.  It  was  good  seed  sown  in 
good  ground.  The  North  Carolin- 
ians were  then,  as  now,  mostly  an 
agricultural,  home-loving  people,  de- 
liberate in  making  up  their  opinions, 
and  tenacious  in  holding  on  to  them. 
They  were  then,  as  now,  a  homo- 
geneous people.  The  absence  of 
large  cities  was  then,  as  no^v,  a  nota- 
ble fact  in  North  Carolina.  Because 
of  this  the  State  may  have  lost  some- 
what in  reputation  abroad,  but  the 
compensation  has  not  been  small. 
Population  and  wealth,  gained  at 
the  expense  of  true  religion  and 
sound  morality,  may  swell  the  sta- 
tistics, and  furnish  occasion  for  the 
loud  boastings  heard  in  some  quar- 
ters ;  but  he  is  a  dull-eyed  observer 

5  65 


/IRo6e0  :fi3rocR. 


and  slow  of  thought  who  does  not 
see  the  evils  which  have  already  come 
to  this  nation  on  this  line,  and  the 
perils  which  still  threaten  it  from 
this  source.  Out  of  these  perils  we 
may  hope  that  it  will  come  safely, 
though  it  may  be  scorched  and  crip- 
pled as  a  consequence  of  our  lack  of 
foresight  and  moral  courage  in  deal- 
ing with  this  question.  That  Meth- 
odism has  been  a  chief  factor  in  the 
development  and  conservation  of 
the  moral  life  of  North  Carolina 
and  her  sister  States  is  a  claim  that 
nobody  will  be  likely  to  dispute. 
Its  polity  makes  it  ^vell-nigh  ubiqui- 
tous ;  its  spirit  makes  it  invincible. 
The  brethren  among  us  of  this  gen- 
eration who  think  that  they  could 
devise  a  better  system,  should  think 
again  before  they  attempt  any  radi- 
cal changes.  And  let  us  all  see  to 
it  that  the  Methodism  of  the  future 
shall  not  shame  that  of  the  past, 
that  its  soul  may  not  be  lost  while 
the  body  survives.     Said  Judge  Gas- 


/llboscB  JSrocft. 


ton,  North  Cai'olina's  great  jurist, 
who  was  a  Roman  Catholic  :  "  Give 
me  the  Alethodist  discipline,  and  1 
can  govern  the  ivorldP  And  in  a 
good  sense  that  is  just  what  Meth- 
odism expects  to  do.  Its  aim  is  to 
conquer  the  world  for  Christ  by  the 
ministry  of  men  who  have  felt  His 
saving  power,  backed  by  an  organ- 
ization w^hose  members  march  shoul- 
der to  shoulder,  ahvaj's  keeping  step, 
and  always  moving  forw^ard. 

The  outline  already  given  of 
Brock's  life  must  suflice,  with  only 
the  closing  scene.  On  the  day  of 
his  death,  when  told  that  he  was 
dying,  he  said  that  in  1814  he  had 
dedicated  himself  to  God,  and  ever 
since  had  kept  but  one  object  in 
view :  to  be  the  Lord's  in  all  tilings 
and  at  all  times.  "  I  die,"  he  said, 
"  without  fear  of  the  future  ;  all  is 
peace,"  and  just  as  the  stars  came 
out  in  the  heavens  on  the  night  of 
March  27,  1870,  the  soul  of  Moses 
Brock  took  its  flight  to  that  spirit 
67 


/IRoses  JSrocft. 


world  beyond  the  stars,  which  was 
so  real  to  his  faith,  which  his  sancti- 
fied imagination  had  pictured  to  mul- 
titudes in  loftiest  eloquence,  and 
where  his  capacious  nature  found 
its  trvie  companionship,  and  entered 
vipon  the  possession  of  the  inherit- 
ance of  the  saints  in  light,  the  things 
which  God  hath  prepared  for  them 
that  love  him. 

68 


HOLLAND  N.  McTYEIRE. 

1824-1889. 


AT  the  foot  of  a  slight  declivi- 
ty in  the  deep  woods  in  Up- 
per Georgia  a  river — clear, 
cold,  and  sparkling — gushes  from 
the  rocks.  Ten  miles  distant,  on 
the  top  of  Lookout  Mountain,  is  a 
lake,  deep  and  still,  with  no  visible 
source  or  outlet.  It  is  thought  by 
scientists  that  the  waters  of  this 
lake,  fed  by  living  springs,  course 
in  underground  channels  among  the 
hills,  and  at  last,  bursting  ovit  into 
the  sunlight,  make  this  river — the 
Chickamauga, 

The  birth  of  a  great  man  is  nei- 
ther an  accident  nor  a  miracle.  The 
genesis  of  his  greatness  may  be 
found  by  him  who  will  discover 
and  apply  the  facts  of  his  heredity. 


'tt)oIlanJ>  1R.  /iRc^geire. 

Back  of  the  well-formed  man  child, 
Holland  Nimmons  McTyeire,  who 
was  born  in  Barn^vell  District,  S.  C, 
July  28,  1824,  was  a  line  of  Scotch- 
Irish  ancestors  on  the  paternal  side 
and  of  Irish  pure  and  straight  on 
the  maternal  side.  These  Mc- 
Tyeires  and  Nimmonses  ^vere  quiet 
people.  The  registers  in  the  family 
Bibles  tell  us  when  and  where  they 
were  born,  when  and  Avhom  they 
married,  and  Avhen  and  ^vhere  they 
died.  The  record  of  their  lives — 
^vhat  they  said,  did,  enjoyed,  suf- 
fered— is  registered  only  in  that 
book  which  will  be  opened  at  the 
final  judgment.  They  achieved  no 
special  distinction  in  civil  life,  led 
no  armies,  %vrote  no  books,  com- 
mitted no  great  crimes.  They  did 
nothing  to  make  themselves  famous 
or  infamous  ;  so  their  brief  record  is 
birth,  marriage,  death.  But  the  life 
of  every  one  of  them  had  its  pleas- 
ure and  its  pain,  its  successes  and 
its  failures,  its  heart  strain  and  its 
79h 


share  of  heart  break.  The  Hfe  story 
of  the  least  known  of  them  all  would 
possess  a  human  interest  for  us,  if 
told  in  nature's  own  language  that 
finds  its  way  to  all  human  hearts. 
As  we  linger  over  the  register  the 
images  of  the  men  and  women,  the 
youths  and  maidens,  and  little  chil- 
'dren  who  bore  these  names  seem  to 
rise  from  the  page,  and  then  melt 
into  the  air,  and  vanish  vs^ith  the  un- 
voiced millions  who  have  come  and 
gone  and  left  no  sign. 

John  McTyeire,  who  was  the  first 
of  the  name  in  America,  was  born 
in  Scotland  about  the  year  1746. 
He  made  his  home  on  the  Northern 
Neck  of  Virginia,  lying  betw^een 
the  Potomac  and  the  Rappahannock, 
a  part  of  Old  Virginia  in  which  the 
gayety  and  gallantry  of  the  Cavaliers 
were  tempered  by  the  gravit}^  and 
tenacity  of  the  Covenanters.  The 
date  of  the  removal  of  the  family 
to  South  Carolina  is  not  exactly 
known,  but  the  famil}^  register  in- 
71 


forms  us  that  "John  McTyeIre  (son 
of  the  fore-mentioned)  and  Elizabeth 
Amanda  Nimmons  were  married  in 
Barn^vell  District,  S.  C,  January  5, 
1820."  These  were  the  parents  of 
Holland  N.  McTyeire,  the  subject 
of  this  booklet. 

John  McTyeire,  the  father  of  our 
bishop,  was  a  man  of  the  true 
Scotch- Irish  type — sturdy,  of  iron 
will,  and  quite  fond  of  having  his 
own  way.  He  believed  in  good 
cotton  crops.  State  rights,  and  Ar- 
minian  theology.  He  named  one 
son  for  John  Wesley,  and  another 
for  John  C.  Calhoun.  In  his  day 
every  Church  member  was  a  po- 
lemic and  every  voter  a  politician. 
Neutrality  v^as  impossible  to  a  man 
of  John  McTyeire's  blood,  tradi- 
tions, and  environment.  Among 
the  red-hot  Nullifiers  of  South  Car- 
olina, and  the  not  less  fiery  minority 
who  opposed  them,  he  could  not 
fail  to  have  political  convictions 
which  he  avo^ved  with  the  freedom 
72 


1boUanJ>  1ft.  ISscZ^cixc, 


and  ardor  characteristic  of  the  coun- 
try and  the  time.  Methodism  had 
not  then  conquered  a  peace.  Theo- 
logical controversy  was  the  fashion 
among  all  classes,  from  the  learned 
divines  vs^ho  hurled  Hebrew  and 
Greek  at  each  other,  to  the  back- 
woodsmen who  laboriously  spelled 
out  their  disputed  texts  from  their 
well-thumbed  English  Bibles. 

When  the  McTyeires  became 
Methodists  cannot  be  stated  exactly.- 
They  were  caught  in  the  sv^eep  of 
the  great  tidal  wave  of  revival.  All 
the  existing  religious  denominations 
and  all  classes  of  people  were  made 
tributary  to  the  great  movement. 
The  scattered  and  unfolded  sheep  of 
other  flocks  w^ere  found  by  the  un- 
tiring, ubiquitous  Methodist  circuit, 
riders,  whose  gospel  presented  to 
them  the  five  points  of  a  universal 
atonement,  repentance,  justification 
by  faith,  the  witness  of  the  Holy 
Spirit,  and  full  salvation  in  the  pres- 
ent tense.  The  McTyeires,  husband 
73 


IbollanD  1R.  IWscZ^cUe, 

and  wife,  believed,  were  converted, 
and  forthwith  joined  in  the  song-  of 
joy  and  march  of  triumph  of  the 
advancing  Methodist  columns. 

The  Nimmons  strain  in  the  blood 
of  the  Bishop  exhibited  itself  in  the 
traits  that  in  times  of  danger  and 
sorrow  have  won  for  the  gentle 
w^omen  of  the  South  the  admiration 
of  the  world.  His  mother  did  not 
trouble  herself  concerning  any  the- 
ories of  woman's  rights,  nor  make 
complaints  of  woman's  w^rongs. 
She  knew  how  to  blend  law  and 
love  in  family  government.  The 
family  discipline  might  now  be  re- 
garded as  rather  sharp  and  stern. 
When  IMethodism  came  into  the 
family  life,  with  its  proffer  of  the 
love  of  God  for  all  men,  and  its 
joyful  atmosphere,  every  child  and 
every  servant  on  the  plantation  v/as 
a  beneficiary  of  its  power.  Deep 
in  the  nature  of  this  mother  was  a 
vein  of  quiet  humor,  which  we  may 
feel     assured     flowed    more     freely 

74 


when  the  hard  rock  of  Puritanism 
was  stricken  by  the  rod  of  Jvletho- 
dism.  A  certain  intensity  has  always 
characterized  the  South  Carolinians. 
In  revolutionary  times  the  Whigs 
and  Tories  hunted  and  shot  each  oth- 
er from  the  swamps  of  the  Pedee  to 
the  tops  of  the  movmtains.  Mar- 
ion's men  typed  the  chivalry  which 
stood  the  shock  of  Santa  Anna's 
legions  in  Mexico,  and  rode  with 
Wade  Hampton  in  the  war  bet^veen 
the  States.  Andrew  Jackson  was 
born  in  South  Carolina ;  and  John 
C.  Calhoun,  his  great  antagonist, 
was  of  the  same  metal.  AVhen  they 
collided  the  nation  felt  the  shock. 
Breathing  this  social  and  jDolitical  at- 
mosphere in  his  boyhood,  our  bishop 
imbibed  impressions  and  influences 
that  clave  to  him  to  the  last.  He 
was  many-sided,  and  his  mental  ev- 
olution led  him  to  the  adoption  of 
opinions  and  to  the  advocacj^  of 
measures  unthought  of  when  he 
was  born ;  but  at  heart  he  ■was  a 
73 


South  Carolinian  to  the  day  of  his 
death. 

He  was  a  solidly  built  boy,  with 
grayish-blue  eyes,  lightish  hair  that 
became  darker  as  he  gre"w  older, 
features  regular  and  strong,  head 
big  and  rounded,  a  frame  straight 
and  stout  set  on  a  pair  of  legs  as 
sturdy  as  were  ever  used  in  a  foot 
race,  jumping  match,  tree  climbing, 
or  in  any  other  of  the  numberless 
exercises  by  which  a  live  boy  keeps 
in  motion  all  day  long. 

He  was  not  a  precocious  boy.  No 
prematurely  smart  sayings  of  his 
childhood  have  been  reported.  He 
was  reticent  rather  than  voluble  ;  but 
he  was  ^vide-awake,  and  he  greeted 
inquisitively  all  that  he  saw  in  this 
new,  strange  "svorld  into  which  he 
had  come.  There  were  few  idlers 
on  that  cotton  plantation,  Avhere  he 
acquired  a  taste  for  natural  history 
and  ^rural  life  that  never  left  him. 
Early  to  bed  and  early  to  rise  was 
the  habit  of  them  all,  white  and 
76 


IboUanJ)  1R.  /iftc^^eire. 


black.  To  have  waited  until  after 
sunrise  for  breakfast  for  the  family 
and  "  the  hands,"  would  have  put 
the  stigma  of  laziness  and  thrift- 
lessness  upon  a  planter  at  that  time. 
Holidays  were  fe\v,  and  were  en- 
joyed with  a  relish  possible  only  to 
people  who  work.  An  idler  can 
have  no  real  holiday.  The  boy 
that  plows  or  hoes  cotton  all  the 
week,  turned  loose  to  go  fishing  on 
Saturday  afternoon,  is  more  than 
happy — he  is  ecstatic  !  The  fields, 
the  orchards,  the  creeks,  and  the 
^voods  give  a  thousand  pleasures  to 
a  healthy  boy  unknown  to  city-bred 
youths.  Fresh,  outdoor  air,  much 
exercise  of  the  muscles,  and  plenty 
of  good,  w^holesome  food  are  the 
prime  conditions  of  boy  comfort. 
These  young  McTyeire  had,  and  to 
the  end  of  his  life  he  always  spoke 
tenderly  of  his  early  home  in  "  old 
Barnwell."  The  first  ten  years  of 
a  boy's  life  color  and  to  some  extent 
.  shape  all  that  come  afterwards.  The 
77 


IboUanD  1H.  /iRctTgelre. 

ground  story  of  his  character  was 
laid  during  this  period.  At  home 
he  was  taught  to  be  respectful  to 
his  seniors  and  superiors,  and  to  be 
submissive  to  rightful  authority. 
Industry,  economy,  and  systematic: 
living  were  taught  him  by  his 
Scotch-Irish  joarents.  Not  least 
among  the  educative  influences 
brought  to  bear  upon  him  during 
these  first  years  was  Methodism. 
The  fii-st  books  and  newspapers  he- 
read  Avere  Methodist  publications. 
The  only  preaching  he  heard  was 
Methodist  preaching,  and  the  only 
preachers  he  met  were  Methodist 
preachers. 

The  Methodist  preachers  then  liv- 
ing and  \vorking  in  South  Carolina 
were  men  well  calculated  to  make  a 
deep  impression  upon  the  mind  of 
the  open-eyed,  thoughtful  boy  who 
was  taking  in  his  first  ideas  of  this 
great  ^vorld.  They  were  mostly 
men  of  large  mold,  grave,  earnest, 
with  exalted  ideals  of  ministerial 
78 


character  and  an  awful  sense  of 
ministerial  responsibility.  They 
were  of  different  grades  of  social 
life  and  diversified  talents,  but  with 
scarcely  an  exception  they  had  one 
quality  in  common  :  an  intense  spir- 
ituality that  illuminated  their  ser- 
mons, glowed  in  their  prayers  and 
mighty  exhortations,  and  hallo^ved 
their  intercourse  with  the  people. 
They  were  men  of  one  work,  the 
products  and  the  propagators  of  the 
great  evangelical  revival  which  was 
then  at  its  flood  tide  in  America. 
They  carried  with  them  a  strange 
power  that  was  felt  by  all  with 
whom  they  came  in  contact.  Among 
these  men  \vas  William  Capers, 
courtly  and  saintly,  whose  eloquence 
charmed  the  most  cviltured  circles 
in  the  cities  ;  while  by  its  simplicity, 
sweet  persuasiveness,  and  spiritual 
power  it  won  to  Christ  the  unlet- 
tered negroes  on  the  rice  and  cotton 
plantations.  And  there  was  Sam- 
uel Dunwoody,  a  pulpit    giant   and 

F  19 


DollanD  1R,  /ifcctTi^eire, 

oddity,  a  mixture  of  the  grand  and 
the  grotesque,  whose  satire  burned 
like  fire,  whose  pathos  melted  the 
most  obdurate  hearers,  whose  vmex- 
pected  sallies  of  humor  and  bursts 
of  declamation  were  equally  start- 
ling ;  James  O.  Andrew,  after^A^ards 
made  bishop,  a  great  and  good  man, 
whose  history  is  inseparably  iden- 
tified with  that  of  Methodism  at 
large ;  Lovick  Pierce  and  Reddick 
Pierce,  ^«r  nobile  yratrum ^  Lewis 
Myers,  eccentric,  capacious,  and  de- 
vout ;  AVilliam  ]\I.  Kennedy,  wise 
with  the  ^visdom  which  is  from 
above  ;  Samuel  K.  Hodges,  Andrew 
Hamill,  Nicholas  Talley,  Daniel  As- 
bury,  James  Norton,  Hilliard  Judge, 
John  B,  Glenn,  Henry  Bass,  Reu- 
ben Tucker,  and  others  of  like  cali- 
ber and  quality.  These  were  the 
men  who  built  upon  the  foundations 
laid  by  Asbury,  Coke,  Dougherty, 
Gibson,  Jenkins,  Randle,  More, 
Carlisle,  Jackson,  and  their  com- 
peers— the  earlier  fathers  of  South 
80 


IbollanD  IR.  /iRcITseire. 

Carolina  Methodism.  There  was 
coming-  forward  a  line  of  younger 
men  who  have  proved  to  be  their 
worthy  successors :  William  M. 
Wightman,  a  prince  in  our  Israel, 
whose  eloquence  v^hen  he  was  at 
his  best  moved  like  a  chariot  of  the 
skies,  its  wheels  flashing  fire  ;  Wil- 
liam A.  Gamew^ell,  a  son  of  conso- 
lation, a  faithful  shepherd  of  the 
flock  of  Christ,  who  fed  the  lambs 
as  well  as  the  sheep ;  William  A. 
McSvs^ain,  cast  in  a  colossal  mold 
both  in  mind  and  body,  steady  and 
strong ;  William  C.  Kirkland,  a 
very  Nathaniel  in  guilelessness, 
with  quenchless  zeal  for  his  Lord  ; 
Whitefoord  Smith,  the  texture  of 
whose  wonderful  sermons  was  (as 
it  were)  of  finest  cloth,  fringed  with 
gold;  John  R.  Pickett,  large  of 
bulk  and  large  of  brain,  who  sang 
like  a  son  of  Asaph,  in  whom  w^ere 
blended  in  no  small  degree  the  elo- 
quence of  a  Whitefield  and  the  hu- 
mor   and    adiposity    of    a    Falstaff ; 


IbolIanD  m.  /Dbc^seirc. 

Charles  Betts,  devout,  laborious, 
successfvxl ;  Samuel  W.  Capers, 
strong  physically  and  mentally, 
whose  preaching  was  in  demonstra- 
tion of  the  Spirit ;  Henry  H.  Du- 
rant,  wonderfully  gifted  in  prayer, 
an  able  preacher,  and  a  powerful 
exhorter  ;  Francis  M.  Kennedy,  the 
saintly  son  of  a  saintly  father,  saga- 
cious, cultured,  consecrated ;  James 
Stacy,  refined,  earnest,  self-poised ; 
and  others  who  are  Avorthy  to  be 
held  in  everlasting  reinembrance. 

While  a  student  at  the  Cokesbury 
Labor  School  at  Abbeville,  S.  C, 
McTyeire  was  converted  in  1837;  in 
1 84 1  he  entered  the  sophomore  class 
of  Randolph-Macon  College,  and 
gradviated  therefrom  in  1844.  For 
one  year  he  was  tutor  in  mathemat- 
ics and  ancient  languages  in  that 
historic  school.  He  was  licensed  to 
preach  in  1844;  in  November,  1845, 
he  was  received  on  trial  in  the  Vir- 
ginia Conference ;  in  May,  1846, 
he    was    stationed    at    St.     Francis 

82 


IboUanD  IR.  /Iftc^igelre. 

Street,  Mobile,  Ala.,  where  in  1B47 
he  married  Miss  Amelia  Townsend. 
He  was  transferred  to  the  Louisiana 
Conference  in  1848.  In  185 1  he 
was  elected  editor  of  the  New  Or- 
leans Christian  Advocate^  and  in 
1858  he  became  editor  of  the  Nash- 
ville Christian  Advocate.  He  had 
filled  appointments  as  preacher  in 
charge  at  Williamsburg,  Va.,  Mo- 
bile, Ala.,  Demopolis,  Ala.,  Colum- 
bus, Miss.,  and  New  Orleans,  La. 
Transferred  to  the  Alabama  Con- 
ference in  1863,  he  was  stationed  in 
Alontgomery  from  1864  to  1866. 
At  the  General  Conference  in  New 
Orleans  in  1866  he  was  elected 
bishop.  The  degree  of  Doctor  of 
Divinity  was  conferred  on  him  by 
Emory  College,  Georgia.  At  the 
Ecumenical  Conference  held  in  Lon- 
don, England,  in  18S1,  he  served  as 
Vice  President  of  the  Western  Sec- 
tion. He  was  President  of  the 
Board  of  Trust  of  Vanderbilt  Uni- 
versity from  1873  until  his  decease. 

83 


IbollanJ)  IR.  /iRc^^eire, 

He  was  the  author  of  the  following 
works :  "  The  Duty  of  Christian 
Masters,"  "  Manual  of  the  Disci- 
pline," "A  Catechism  on  Church 
Government,"  "  Catechism  on  Bible 
History,"  "A  History  of  Metho- 
dism," besides  numerous  sermons, 
essays,  and  addresses  that  have 
never  been  published  in  book 
form. 

It  may  yet  be  too  soon  to  fix  the 
place  of  the  richly-endowed,  many- 
sided  McTyeire,  than  whom  no 
greater  man  has  appeared  among 
us.  His  -work  abides  with  us.  His 
thoughts  are  printed  in  books  that 
will  live.  The  institutions  that  he 
helped  to  create  bear  the  impress  of 
his  genius.  As  pastor,  editor, 
bishop,  educational  administrator, 
and  historian  he  touched  his  Church 
and  his  times  at  many  points,  and 
left  his  mark  on  all.  In  due  time 
will  be  told  the  story  of  his  great 
life,  which  is  only  glanced  at  in  this 
booklet  for  our  young  people.  An- 
84 


other  hand,  skillful  and  loving,  will 
perform  this  service. 

Not  every  popular  preacher  is  a 
great  preacher,  but  Bishop  Mc- 
Tyeire  was  a  great  preacher.  The 
pulpit  idol  of  one  generation  is  for- 
gotten by  the  next.  The  thinker 
that  preaches  to  a  small  but  select 
audience  while  living  often  preaches 
to  a  larger  one  from  the  printed 
page  when  dead.  Bishop  McTyeire 
w^as  great,  judged  by  the  highest 
standards.  He  had  the  advantage 
of  a  commanding  person  and  a  deep, 
sonorous  voice.  In  the  pulpit  he 
was  easy,  dignified,  and  devout  in 
his  bearing.  A  grave  simplicity 
was  his  chiefest  charm.  He  was 
never  stilted  nor  turgid.  Declama- 
tion, strictly  speaking,  he  eschewed. 
He  excelled  in  exegesis,  choosing 
his  texts  with  great  felicity  and  ex- 
pounding them  with  much  clearness. 
He  struck  right  to  the  heart  of  his 
subject,  and  hit  it.  If,  in  any  dis- 
cussion, he  departed  from  the  beaten 
2  85 


IbollanD  TR.  /iRc^^eire. 

path,  his  exposition  was  ingenious 
enough  to  excite  curiosity  and  admi- 
ration, even  if  it  did  not  always  com- 
mand acceptance.  His  method  was 
his  own.  In  sanctified  wit  he  r'e- 
minded  us  of  Dr.  South.  He  was 
truly  a  spiritual  preacher,  because  he 
was  a  spiritual-minded  man.  He 
spoke  with  authority  as  the  messen- 
ger of  God.  His  reverent  spirit  was 
contagious.  The  whisperers  and 
gigglers  were  sober  and  quiet  when 
they  saw  him  in  the  pulpit.  Though 
he  seldom  made  any  allusion  to  him- 
self in  his  preaching,  there  were 
passages  in  his  sermons  that  showed 
that  out  of  the  depths  he  had  cried 
vmto  God.  A  tender  touch — only  a 
touch,  for  he  could  not  be  effusive — 
would  now  and  then  stir  the  deepest 
feeling  in  the  hearts  of  such  of  his 
hearers  as  had  known  sorrow.  Be- 
neath his  calm  exterior  volcanic 
fires  burned.  He  knew  the  wind- 
ings of  the  human  heart,  and  could 
track  the  sinner  to  his  hiding  places. 
86 


Under  his  preaching  the  people 
were  awakened,  convinced,  com- 
forted, edified.  Those  whom  he 
served  as  pastor  retained  ever  after 
a  reverent  and  grateful  affection  for 
him  as  their  spiritual  instructor.  In 
the  families  in  which  he  had  minis- 
tered to  the  sick,  and  whose  dead 
he  had  buried,  he  was  never  forgot- 
ten. 

Great  orators  are  more  numerous 
than  great  editors.  A  hundred  men 
are  more  or  less  eloquent  where  one 
is  found  to  possess  the  indefinable 
touch  that  stamps  him  as  a  born  ed- 
itor. Indefinable  it  is,  just  as  the 
touch  of  a  musical  genius,  as  contra- 
distinguished from  musical  talent,  is 
indefinable.  A  glance  at  a  newspa- 
per in  the  one  case,  and  the  hearing 
of  a  single  bar  of  a  tune  in  the  other, 
reveals  the  precious  gift.  "This 
young  man  has  a  gift,"  said  Dr.  Le- 
roy  M.  Lee,  after  reading  some  of 
McTyeire's  first  essays  at  newspa- 
per letter  writing.  The  old  editor 
87 


1bollan&  IR.  /iftc^^eire, 

spoke  truly — the  young  man  had  a 
gift.  There  "was  in  his  style  an  in- 
cisiveness  and  a  sparkle  that  beto- 
kened the  advent  of  a  man  of  genius. 
McTyeire  excelled  in  so  many  things 
that  there  is  difficulty  in  applying  to 
him  the  saying  that  men  love  most 
to  do  that  w^hich  they  can  do  best. 
Whatever  he  did  seemed  to  be  his 
forte.  The  Church  soon  discov- 
ered that  the  new  editor  at  New 
Orleans  was  a  man  of  mark.  His 
"  leaders  "  were  on  live  topics.  The 
headings  of  his  editorials  were  very 
striking  and  suggestive.  He  had 
what  many  gifted  men  lack,  a  sense 
of  proportion  :  he  did  not  ^vaste  his 
space  or  strength  on  trifles.  He 
winnowed  the  chaff  from  the  wheat. 
His  paper  soon  became  an  influen- 
tial organ  of  public  opinion  within 
the  bounds  of  the  patronizing  Con- 
ferences, and  beyond.  He  was  not 
disinclined  to  controversy  when  oc- 
casion seemed  to  demand  it.  The 
retort  he  gave  the  Protestant  Epis- 


IbollanD  in.  /Ilbc^^eire, 

copal  Bishop  Green,  of  Mississippi^ 
must  have  elicited  a  smile  from  even 
that  amiable  high-churchman  him- 
self. Bishop  Green  wrote  and  pub- 
lished a  series  of  letters  on  the  uni- 
ty of  the  Church  of  Christ,  in 
w^hich  he  gave  special  consideration 
to  the  relations  of  the  Episcopalians 
and  the  Methodists,  concluding  after 
the  manner  of  his  school,  \vith  an 
invitation  to  the  Methodists  to 
"  come  back  into  the  Episcopal 
Church."  "  That  is  cool !  "  said 
McTyeire  ;  "  the  next  proposition, 
we  presume,  will  be  to  tzirn  the 
jMississippi  River  into  Bi(ffalo 
Bayou  1'^''  That  was  enough  on 
that  fallacious  plea  for  unity  that 
was  not  vmity.  McTyeire  went 
loaded  (the  reader  will  excuse  this 
Western  phrase)  for  bigotry  and  ar- 
rogance. Yet  he  ^vas  truly  irenic, 
recognizing  the  essential  unity  of 
all  true  followers  of  Christ,  and 
ready  at  all  times  to  extend  the  right 
hand  of  fellowship  to  all  who  truly 

89 


©ollanD  m.  jfllbc^^eire. 

call  him  Lord.  As  an  editor  he  was 
broad  as  well  as  incisive.  His  com- 
ments on  current  questions  and 
passing  events  displayed  a  keen  ob- 
servation, and  a  mind  richly  fur- 
nished by  wide  and  varied  reading. 
Pie  had  what  might  be  called  a 
genius  for  quotation.  He  covild 
take  an  extract  and  place  it  in  an  ed- 
itorial setting  so  striking  that  even 
the  very  author  of  the  piece  quoted 
would  be  agreeably  surprised  to  see 
how  good  a  thing  he  had  said. 
The  readers  of  his  paper  learned  to 
look  for  something  on  the  editorial 
page  every  week  that  would  put 
them  to  thinking.  About  once  a 
month  he  put  his  whole  strength 
into  a  leading  editorial.  In  the 
opinion  of  his  readers  many  of 
these  productions  of  his  pen  were 
worthy  of  preservation  in  more  en- 
during form.  Bvit  it  has  been 
demonstrated  again  and  again  that 
such  fragments,  however  rich  or 
brilliant,  cannot  be  built  into  literary 

90 


unity  and  solidity.  Our  great  news- 
paper editors,  religious  and  secular, 
enrich  all  the  fields  of  contempora- 
neous thought  and  discussion,  mold 
and  guide  public  opinion,  and  have 
much  to  do  in  making  the  men  who 
make  history  ;  but  as  a  rule  the  men 
who  put  their  best  thoughts  into 
newspapers  must  be  content  with 
usefulness,  leaving  the  prizes  of  en- 
during literary  renown  to  the  men 
who  write  books. 

The  qualities  that  distinguished 
him  as  editor  of  the  New  Orleans 
C hristiatz  Advocate  were  exhibited 
on  a  wider  field  when  he  was  elected 
editor  of  the  Nashville  Christian 
Advocate^  the  general  organ  of  the 
Methodist  Episcopal  Church,  South. 
Under  his  editorship  the  paper  gave 
no  uncertain  sound  on  any  question 
involving  Methodist  doctrine,  polity, 
or  discipline.  On  the  vital  ethical 
qviestions  of  the  day  he  spoke  plain- 
ly and  pungently.  He  was  ortho- 
dox, yet  progressive.  He  was 
91 


dreaded  by  some,  adiTiired  and  fol- 
lowed by  many.  "  McTyeire  is  the 
most  dangerous  man  in  the  Church," 
said  an  ultraconservative  doctor  of 
divinity,  who  had  been  roughly 
handled  by  him  in  a  newspaper  dis- 
cussion. This  was  an  involuntary 
tribute  to  a  man  vv^hose  genius  and 
po^ver  of  will  had  invested  him 
with  practical  leadership  years  be- 
fore the  suffrages  of  the  Church 
gave  him  official  recognition.  Had 
he  never  been  a  bishop,  McTyeire 
would  still  have  been  a  leader. 
Whether  his  place  in  Methodist 
history  could  have  been  larger  or 
smaller,  we  cannot  say.  He  would 
have  done  a  different  work,  but  it 
might  have  been  no  less  valuable. 
Religious  literature  might  have 
gained  what  would  have  been  lost 
otherw^ise.  American  Methodism 
has  had  no  abler  editor.  In  going 
over  the  files  of  the  papers  edited 
by  him  the  discerning  reader  sees 
everywhere  the  work  of  a  mind  of 

92 


IbollanD  m.  /iRc^^eire. 

extraordinary  power,  and  is  charmed 
by  a  style  scarcely  equaled  for  its 
simplicity  and  forcefulness — the 
forcefulness  mainly  of  Anglo- 
Saxon  monosyllables  shot  straight 
at  their  object,  rarely  missing,  and 
sure  when  they  struck  to  bring 
down  the  game.  While  he  was 
notably  militant  and  aggressive  as 
an  editor,  his  columns  were  bright- 
ened ^vith  flashes  of  the  most  genial 
humor,  and  his  simple  pathos  was 
inimitable  and  irresistible.  He  had 
the  insight  and  genuine  sympathy 
that  made  another's  sorrow^  his  own. 
He  vv^rote  many  memoirs  of  the 
sainted  dead  at  the  request  of  the 
bereaved,  and  in  these  sacred  tributes 
depth  of  feeling,  delicacy  of  touch, 
and  consolatory  suggestion  were  so 
blended  that  they  were  models  of 
their  kind.  Clipped  from  his  col- 
umns and  laid  away  in  secret  draw- 
ers, they  are  treasured  unto  this 
day,  and  in  quiet  hours  they  are  re- 
read with  moistened  eyes. 
93 


IbolIanD  1R.  /IftcG^seirc; 

McTyeire  was  a  great  debater. 
Said  Judge  East,  of  Nashville : 
"  McTyeire  in  a  debate  with  a  man 
of  ordinary  ability  is  like  a  man-of- 
Avar  colliding  with  a  little  yawl — 
they  are  seen  approaching  each 
other,  the  man-of-war  seeixiing 
scarcely  to  be  moving  at  all,  the 
yawl  lightly  and  swiftly  skimming 
the  waves,  until  they  meet — and  then 
the  yawl  is  invisible,  and  the  big  ship 
moves  on  as  if  nothing  had  hap- 
pened." Our  astute  Methodist  law- 
yer gauged  him  well.  He  guarded 
himself  against  incautious  statements 
or  rash  assumptions,  and  was  careful 
in  the  use  of  words.  He  was  ag- 
gressive in  his  method,  acting  on 
the  military  axiom  that  the  momen- 
tum of  attack  counts  for  much.  He 
never  stood  long  in  a  defensive  atti- 
tude, but,  gathering  his  forces,  threw 
himself  against  his  antagonist  with 
such  vigor  that  only  the  very  stron- 
gest could  withstand  him.  He  took 
part  in  one  way  or  another    in  all 

94 


that  was  going  on  in  the  Church 
during  the  stormy  transitional  pe- 
riod in  which  he  hved.  Not  seldom 
did  it  devolve  upon  him  to  be  the 
special  champion  of  opinions  and 
measures  that  were  hotly  contested. 
He  had  enough  combativeness  and 
driving  power  to  have  made  him  a 
revolutionist,  had  not  the  grace  of 
God  made  him  a  Christian  man.  He 
was  half  Irish,  and  that  half  at  times 
seemed  to  be  the  whole  man.  The 
Scotch  in  him  was  not  a  noncombat- 
ant  element  in  his  constitution. 

Bishop  McTyeire  was  a  true 
child  of  the  tribe  of  Issachar — a 
tribe  noted  for  wisdom  in  statecraft 
— "  men  that  had  understanding  of 
the  times,  to  know^  ^vhat  Israel 
ought  to  do."  The  men  in  Church 
and  State  who  know  what  ought  to 
be  done  in  the  present  tense  are  few. 
Such  men  are  born  leaders.  In 
times  of  peril  or  perplexity  the  peo- 
ple look  to  them  instinctively  for 
counsel  and  direction.  Bishop  Mc- 
G  95 


Tyeire    was    one    of    these.     With 
telescopic  vision  that  could  see  afar 
off,  he  had  also  the  microscopic  eye 
that  took  in  the  details  of  contem- 
poraneous     action.      The      opening 
chapters  of  his  "  History  of  Meth- 
odism "  demonstrated  that   he  could 
synchronize  the  events  of    an    his- 
toric period,  discern  their  subtle  cor- 
relations, and  follow  their  windings 
until     they     were     merged     in    the 
mighty  stream  of  universal  history. 
The  war  of   iS6i    may   have  taken 
him  by  surprise,  as  it  did  the  very 
men     that     precipitated     it.      When 
the    "war    came  it    found   him    very 
busy  with  his  work  as  a  minister  of 
Jesus    Christ,    and,   leaving    the    ci- 
vilians and  soldiers  to  conduct  State 
affairs  and  to  lead  the  armies  in  the 
field,  he  kept  his  eye  on  the  interest 
of    the    Church.     He    did   not  con- 
clude   that    the    declaration    of   war 
suspended  the  Decalogue,  or  that  the 
tumults  of  the  world  absolved  him 
from  the   obligations  of   his  sacred 
96 


office.  He  never  sunk  the  preacher 
in  the  politician,  the  soldier,  the  sut- 
ler, or  anything-  else.  When  peace 
returned,  his  voice  was  among  the 
very  first  that  w^as  heard  rallying 
the  forces  of  Southern  Metho- 
dism. The  effect  ^vvas  electric  when 
he  wrote  a  letter  to  the  organ  of 
the  Church  on  the  Pacific  Coast  af- 
firming that  the  lines  "svere  un- 
broken, that  the  Church  had  come 
out  of  the  fiery  trial  undismayed, 
and  was  ready  to  resume  its  work 
wherever  it  had  been  interrupted  by 
the  war,  and  to  go  forward  with 
fresh  courage  and  confidence.  He 
wrote  in  a  similar  vein  to  the  Church 
at  large.  There  were  at  that  time 
weaklings,  who  were  whining  over 
the  past ;  cowards,  who  were  quak- 
ing in  dread  of  what  might  be  com- 
ing in  the  future  ;  fanatics,  who  w^ere 
mistaking  nightmares  for  heaven- 
ly visions ;  ingenious  triflers,  who 
were  straining  the  sublime  symbol- 
ism of  the  Bible  to  bolster  pet  the- 

7  97 


ories  of  politics,  or  to  interpret  the 
plans  and  purposes  of  Omniscience. 
The  voice  of  McTyeire  rose  sharp 
and  clear  above  all  the  din  and  con- 
fusion of  the  time,  and  it  was  recog^- 
nized  as  the  voice  of  a  leader. 

It  w^as  a  happy  conjunction  when 
Bishop  McTyeire  and  Commodore 
Vanderbilt  met — the  masterful  ec- 
clesiastic and  the  king  of  the  stock 
exchange.  There  was  a  mutual  lik- 
ing and  admiration  from  the  start. 
"  Bishop  McTyeire  \vould  have 
been  equal  to  the  demands  of  any 
position  in  the  government  or  in 
business  affairs,"  said  the  enthusi- 
astic Commodore,  after  spending 
some  time  in  the  company  of  his 
solid,  deep-voiced,  acute,  many-sided, 
much-kno'wing  visitor.  The  Com- 
modore's genius  for  affairs  excited 
the  wonder  and  admiration  of  the 
Bishop.  It  is  likely  that  they  were 
mutually  surprised,  the  Commodore 
expecting  to  find  in  the  Bishop  a 
preacher   with    little    or    no  knowl- 

98 


IbollanD  m.  /iRc^selre. 

edge  of  anything-  or  anybody  out- 
side the  circles  of  his  own  sect ;  the 
Bishop  expecting  to  find  in  the  Com- 
modore only  a  keen  money-maker, 
whose  world  was  Wall  Street.  Both 
of  them  had  a  vein  of  humor  that 
doubtless  cropped  out  in  their  talks 
with  each  other.  In  the  admirable 
portrait  of  the  Commodore  which 
hangs  in  the  chapel  of  Vanderbilt 
University  it  is  hard  to  say  which 
trait  shows  plainest — shrewdness, 
pluckiness,  or  the  humor  that 
beams  from  the  whole  face ;  while 
in  the  superb  portrait  of  the  Bishop, 
hanging  near,  the  discerning  eye 
detects  the  same  twinkle  of  latent 
humor.  It  was  after  one  of  their 
talks  that  the  Commodore,  before 
retiring  for  the  night,  went  into  an 
adjoining  department  and  drew  a 
million-dollar  check  for  the  new 
university,  which  had  been  one  of 
the  subjects  of  their  conversation. 
That  both  slept  more  sweetly  be- 
cause of  this  "good-night"  episode. 


we  may  be  sure.  If  the  Bishop 
dreamed  at  all  that  night,  his 
dreams  were  of  the  shaded  cam- 
pus, stately  college  halls,  spacious 
shelves,  filled  with  books,  and  all 
appurtenances  of  a  inodern  school 
of  liberal  learning.  The  Civil  War 
had  just  ended.  These  men  were 
on  opposite  sides.  Commodore 
Vanderbilt  had  signalized  his  pa- 
triotism during  the  war  by  placing 
one  of  his  fleetest  and  strongest 
ships  at  the  command  of  the  Fed- 
eral Government  at  a  time  when 
such  a  service  meant  much.  Bishop 
McTyeire  had  felt  and  expressed 
the  sympathies  of  a  Southern  man. 
Each  in  his  way  was  a  representa- 
tive man  of  his  section,  though 
both,  would  have  repelled  the  im- 
putation of  sectionalism  In  the  nar- 
row sense  of  the  word.  But  the 
war  was  over,  and  both  of  them 
had  sense  enough  to  know  It  and 
grace  enovigh  to  be  glad.  The  no- 
tion   somehow    got    into    the    hard 

100 


IbollanD  IFl.  i^cZ^cixc. 

head  of  the  Commodore  that  it 
would  be  a  good  thing  for  some 
Northern  man  who  had  the  money 
to  make  a  liberal  benefaction  in  the 
shape  of  an  educational  endowment 
in  the  South,  and  he  felt  moved 
thereto  himself.  But  through  what 
agency  could  this  benefaction  best 
be  made?  When  the  suggestion 
was  made  that  it  be  made  nonde- 
nominational,  a  woman's  voice — a 
voice  he  loved  to  hear — suggested 
that  there  was  -wisdom  in  the  ad- 
age that  what  was  everybody's  busi- 
ness was  nobody's  business.  A 
well-worn  adage  never  came  in 
more  opportunely.  The  Commo- 
dore decided  to  make  it  some  peo- 
ple's special  business.  His  purpose 
then  took  the  most  natural  di- 
rection— namely,  the  Methodist 
Episcopal  Chvirch,  South.  This 
v^as  the  largest  religious  body  in 
the  South ;  through  it  he  could 
hope  to  do  the  greatest  good  to  the 
greatest  number ;  his  beautiful   and 

lOI 


IbollanD  IR.  ^ctT^eire. 

teloved  wife  had  been  reared  in  its 
communion ;  and  here  was  Mc- 
Tyeire,  the  man  on  whose  broad, 
strong  shoulders  the  whole  burden 
of  the  grand  enterprise  could  be 
laid.  The  hour,  the  occasion,  the 
men  had  met — and  Vanderbilt  Uni- 
versity was  born.  The  avowed 
motive  of  Commodore  Vanderbilt 
was  a  patriotic  desire  to  help  heal 
the  wounds  of  the  war,  and  bring 
the  North  and  the  South  into  har- 
monious relation  and  enduring  un- 
ion. The  effect  v\^as  most  happy. 
Vanderbilt's  million  of  dollars  was 
more  potent  than  would  have  been 
a  garrison  of  a  million  of  soldiers. 
Not  merely  the  Methodists,  but  the 
whole  Southern  people  responded 
to  the  generous  overture  of  the 
Northern  man  whose  patriotism 
overleaped  sectional  lines,  and  whose 
liberality  was  not  circumscribed 
by  denominational  prejudices. 

True    patriots    took    fresh   heart, 
and  sectionalists  were  rebuked  and 

102 


IbollanD  1R.  USicZ^cixc. 

made  to  be  ashamed  of  themselves. 
It  was  like  a  fresh  proclamation  of 
peace,  cheering  the  hearts  and 
brightening  the  hopes  of  good  men, 
North,  South,  East,  and  West,  who, 
coming  out  of  the  baptism  of  blood, 
were  entering  upon  the  new  era  of 
our  national  life  with  chastened 
spirits  and  anxious  minds.  The 
founding  of  Vanderbilt  University 
resulted  from  the  ineeting  of  these 
two  men — the  Commodore  and  the 
Bishop.  The  conditions  were  ripe, 
but,  had  they  not  met,  the  great 
enterprise  wovild  not  have  been  pro- 
jected. Widely  as  their  paths  in 
life  diverged,  they  kept  in  com- 
munication with  each  other,  with 
constantly  increasing  esteem  and 
good  will.  The  University  stands 
as  an  enduring  monument  of  the 
beneficence  of  the  one  and  the 
fidelity  and  administrative  genius 
of  the  other. 

Bishop     McTyeire    was     a     self- 
poised,  self-acting  man,  yet  no  man 


was  more  minute  and  skillful  in  his 
inquiries  or  took  greater  pains  to 
get  the  consensus  of  opinion  among 
his  associates  or  the  drift  of  public 
opinion  concerning  any  matter  af- 
fecting the  welfare  of  the  Church. 
But,  like  the  shrewd  and  watchful 
Nehemiah,  he  could  often  say  ^ 
"  Then  I  consulted  with  myself." 
Solomon's  aphorism  that  "  in  the 
multitude  of  counselors  there  is 
safety  "  may  be  accepted  when  the 
counselors  are  sensible,  as  well  as 
numerous ;  but  there  are  occasions 
when  a  man  can  get  the  best  coun- 
sel from  his  own  brave,  honest 
heart  in  the  face  of  difficulties. 
Bishop  McTyeire  wished  to  know 
all  that  was  being  said  and  done  in 
the  Church.  He  was  a  constant 
and  careful  reader  of  the  Church 
papers,  not  only  from  the  force  of 
former  habit,  but  from  a  desire  to 
know  what  our  Israel  was  doing, 
and  thus  be  able  to  judge  as  to  what 
Israel  ought  to  do.     He  seemed  to. 

104 


have  ears  for  all  that  was  said,  and 
his  hand  touched  every  wheel,  great 
and  small,  in  the  machinery  of  the 
Church.  But  when  he  chose  he 
could  be  as  close  as  an  oyster.  In 
the  crises  that  came  not  seldom  in 
the  discharge  of  his  official  duties, 
he  sometimes  surprised  his  intimate 
friends  as  well  as  others  by  a  svidden 
coup  de  main  that  overthrew  the 
strongest  antagonist,  or  some  coup 
cPetat  that  swept  the  field.  On  one 
occasion  he  transferred  a  preacher 
to  an  important  station  in  another 
Conference,  and  was  sharply  criti- 
cised for  so  doing.  The  presiding 
elders  disclaimed  all  responsibility 
for  the  act,  and  murmurings  of  dis- 
content -were  heard  from  dissatisfied 
and  disappointed  parties.  The  mat- 
ter was  mentioned  to  him,  and  he 
said  :  "  It  happened  this  way.  I 
consulted  the  presiding  elders  more 
than  once  v^ith  reference  to  that  ap- 
pointment, and  could  get  no  two  of 
them  to  agree  on  any  man  belong- 
105 


ing  to  their  own  body,  and  so  I  cut 
the  matter  short  by  sending  a  good 
man  of  my  own  choosing."  That 
is  to  say,  his  advisers  failing,  he 
"  consulted  with  himself,"  and  cut 
the  knot.  The  result  vindicated  the 
wisdom  of  his  course.  The  trans- 
ferred preacher  did  a  great  work  for 
the  Church  in  that  city,  and  person- 
ally took  on  a  new  mental  and  spir- 
itual grow^th. 

Bishop  McTyeire  loved  little 
children.  Said  one  ^vho  knew  him 
well :  "  Perhaps  the  most  delightful 
picture  wherein  he  ever  figured  was 
that  w^hich  he  often  formed  in  a 
romp  with  his  grandchildren  on  the 
restful  grass  plots  of  the  University 
campus.  He  personally  interested 
himself  in  the  children  of  his  friends, 
prophesied  a  life  course  of  blessing 
and  honor  for  theixi,  and  thereby  en- 
nobled their  ambition  and  won  their 
undying  attachment."  The  tender 
side  of  his  nature  touched  many  re- 
sponsive souls.     When  he  died  the 

106 


whole  Church  mourned  the  loss  of 
a  great  leader,  while  the  objects  of 
his  affection  and  beneficiaries  of  his 
personal  kindness  felt  that  they  had 
lost  their  tenderest,  wisest,  strongest 
friend. 

Bishop  McTyeire  died  in  Nash- 
ville on  February  15,  1889,  in  his 
sixty-fifth  year.  His  body  rests  in 
hope  -with  the  bodies  of  Bishops  Mc- 
Kendree  and  Soule  on  the  campus 
of  Vanderbilt  University,  and  by 
his  side  sleeps  his  gentle,  faithful 
Amelia,  who  was  the  good  angel  of 
his  life  and  the  light  of  his  home. 
He  seems  still  to  walk  among  us — a 
noble  figure,  stalw^art,  erect,  gracefvil, 
the  massive  head  thrown  back,  with 
a  face  at  once  benign  and  strong,  the 
grayish-blue  eyes  penetrating  yet 
kindly  in  expression,  his  gait  the 
easy  swing  and  elastic  step  of  a 
man  who  is  sure  of  his  footing  and 
knows  whither  he  is  going.  In  the 
perspective  of  the  coming  years  his 
figure  will  grow  larger. 

107 


ROBERT  A.  SMITH; 

Or,  Bob  Smith,  The  Christian  Lawyer. 
1819-1862. 


BOB  SMITH— that  is  what 
they  called  him.  Let  it  not 
jar  upon  the  hearts  of  any 
wlio  loved  him.  It  was  a  pet  name 
for  a  man  much  beloved  and  high- 
ly honored — spoken  as  the  names 
of  "Bob  Lee"  or  "Old  Abe" 
were  spoken  by  their  countrymen. 
Scholar,  lawyer,  follower  of  Jesus, 
friend  of  the  friendless,  helper  of  the 
needy,  soldier,  hero — Bob  Smith 
holds  a  place  all  his  own  in  Georgia 
Methodism,  and  this  abbreviation  of 
his  name  from  affectionate  admira- 
tion serves  now  to  perpetuate  his 
unique  individuality,  as  in  other 
days  it  made  music  in  the  ears  of 
countless  beneficiaries  of  his  good- 
ness. 

It  was  a  mighty  gospel  that  tamed 
109 


IRobert  21,  Smftb. 


his  fiery  heart.  He  was  the  son  of 
a  rich  cotton  planter  who  Hved  in 
CHnton,  the  county  seat  of  Jones 
County,  in  Central  Georgia — Maj. 
Smith,  a  man  who  had  high  notions 
of  personal  honor,  who  took  his 
"  drams  "  when  he  felt  like  it,  used 
profane  language  except  in  the  com- 
pany of  women,  paid  his  debts, 
voted  his  party  ticket,  was  shy  of 
preachers,  and  on  a  big  cotton  plan- 
tation worked  many  negroes,  to 
whom  he  was  kind  in  his  own  im- 
perious way.  He  was  a  typical, 
planter  of  his  sort,  with  a  quick 
temper,  abundant  generosity,  a  firm 
persuasion  that  State  rights  was  the 
true  faith  of  a  patriot,  and  that  Cal- 
houn was  its  prophet.  He  -was  over 
six  feet  high,  large-framed,  ruddy- 
faced,  with  a  voice  like  a  bassoon 
when  he  let  it  out. 

Middle  Georgia  at  that  time  was 
both  a  political  and  polemic  battle 
ground,  and  every  man  who  was  a 
man  took   one   side  or  the  other  of 

110 


"Kobert  B.  Smitb, 


every  debated  question.  Each  man 
was  a  Democrat  or  a  Whig,  in  the 
Church  or  out  of  it.  The  line  of 
separation  bet-ween  the  Church  and 
the  world  was  very  distinct.  The 
men  who  led  the  Church  drew  the 
line,  showing-  by  Bible  teaching  and 
by  the  exercise  of  discipline  that 
those  who  were  not  for  it  were 
against  it,  and  so  classified  them. 
The  old  Major  knew  which  side  he 
was  on,  and  in  his  bluff,  emphatic 
way  let  it  be  known  that  he  had  no 
use  for  preachers,  and  that  if  they 
would  let  him  alone  he  would  give 
them  as  wide  a  berth.  In  his  roomy 
mansion  he  dispensed  a  hearty  hos- 
pitality to  neighboring  planters  and 
to  the  lawyers  who  attended  court 
at  the  county  seat,  made  an  annual 
visit  to  one  of  the  mineral  springs 
so  abundant  in  Upper  Georgia,  sold 
his  crop  and  occasionally  a  negro, 
thought  himself  a  good  citizen,  and 
felt  sure  that  he  was  sound  on  poli- 
tics and  fox  hunting. 
H  "1 


IRobert  21.  Smitb. 


But  it  came  to  pass  that  a  Meth- 
odist preaclier  came  to  Clinton,  and 
preached  the  gospel  of  Christ  in 
his  own  wonderful  ^vay,  and  the 
wife  of  Maj.  Smith  heard  him  and 
g-ave  her  heart  to  her  Lord  and 
Saviour.  That  preacher  was  Lov- 
ick  Pierce.  She  was  one  of  a  great 
multitude  of  his  spiritvial  children, 
whose  number  cannot  be  known 
this  side  of  the  judgment  day,  when 
the  books  will  be  balanced  and  every 
man  rewarded  according  to  his  work. 
"  They  that  turn  many  to  righteous- 
ness shall  shine  as  the  stars  for- 
ever ; "  the  blessedness  of  which 
they  are  the  instrumental  agents  is 
perpetuated  and  multiplied  forever. 
Forever !  The  faithful  minister  of 
Christ  will  wonder  at  the  final  judg- 
ment that  he  ever  for  one  moment 
grew  weary  of  such  a  service. 

The  wife  of   Maj.   Smith  was  a 

woman  of  strong  character,  and  was 

blessed   with  a  common  sense  that 

made  her  a  blessing  to  many.     She 

112 


IRobcrt  B.  Smitb. 


was  a  -woman  of  few  words  and 
great  strength  of  will.  She  did  less 
talking  and  gave  more  money  than 
most  women  of  her  ability.  If  the 
old  Major  did  not  love  her  God  and 
her  Church  as  she  did,  he  loved  her, 
and  let  her  have  her  own  way  in 
religious  matters.  He  opened  his 
purse  to  her,  and  she  opened  hers  to 
her  Church  and  to  the  poor  and 
needy.  He  believed  in  her ;  if  his 
faith  stopped  there,  it  was  good  as 
far  as  it  went. 

There  were  several  sons  in  the 
Smith  family — all  handsome,  full- 
sized,  sprightly  boys.  Robert,  or 
"  Bob,"  as  the  town  boys  called  hirA 
(he  never  lost  his  abbreviation  as 
long  as  he  lived),  was  a  typical  boy 
of  the  sort  that  love  fun  and  mis- 
chief. He  keenly  relished  a  boxing 
match  or  a  fight,  and  held  to  the 
code  that  the  two  cardinal  and  un- 
pardonable sins  were  lying  and 
cowardice.  Whatever  may  be  said 
of  that    "  chivalry "    of  that    former 

8  _        113 


IRobert  B,  Smitb. 

time — and  undoubtedly  it  had  its 
weak  sides — the  manhood  develojDed 
under  its  influence  was  never  sur- 
passed for  truthfuhiess  and  courage. 
The  Maj.  Smith  family  had  re- 
moved from  Clinton  to  Macon. 
Robert  Smith — or  Bob,  if  you  pre- 
fer it — was  a  well-gro%vn  youth 
fourteen  years  old.  George  Foster 
Pierce  came  to  Macon  as  the  Meth- 
odist preacher.  He  was  then  in  the 
very  flower  of  his  genius.  The  ad- 
miring youth  was  first  captivated 
by  Pierce's  eloquence ;  then  under 
his  pungent  appeals  he  was  con- 
victed and  converted,  together  ^vith 
many  others  \vho  helped  each  other 
in  the  new  life  they  had  begun,  sev- 
eral of  whom  left  their  marks  deeplv 
impressed  upon  the  religious  life  of 
Georgia.  The  most  notable  of  them 
all  was  the  subject  of  this  sketch. 
"  Bob  Smith  has  professed  religion 
and  joined  the  Church !  "  was  an 
exclamation  that  passed  from  lip  to 
lip  among  his  associates.     It  meant 

114 


IRobert  B,  Smitb. 


much  to  them,  knowhig  as  they  did 
his  frank  and  fiery  nature.  The  re- 
vival swept  through  all  the  circles 
of  his  association.  The  larger  num- 
ber of  the  converts  joined  the  Meth- 
odist Church,  but  not  all ;  other 
branches  of  the  one  Church  of  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ  were  replenished 
from  the  fruits  of  that  revival. 
This  was  no  unusual  thing  ;  Meth- 
odism has  built  up  every  other  evan- 
gelical organization  and  strength- 
ened everything  else  that  is  good  in 
Christendom.  Its  human  founder, 
John  Wesley,  did  not  start  out  to 
create  a  ne"w  ecclesiasticism ;  his 
sole  purpose  was  to  revive  spiritual 
holiness.  The  spirit  of  the  new 
movement  came,  and  God  prepared 
it  a  body  as  it  pleased  him.  Other 
religious  bodies  that  ^vere  dead  or 
dying  felt  its  touch,  and  were  made 
to  stand  on  their  feet,  and  are  be- 
come a  great  army,  mobilized,  march- 
ing on  to  the  conquest  of  the  world. 
The  Pierces,  father  and  son,  have 
115 


IRobert  B.  Smitb. 


many  of  their  spiritual  children  in 
other  folds  of  the  one  flock  of 
Christ  all  over  Georgia,  and  beyond. 
There  is  not  in  all  that  land  a  church 
of  any  denomination  that  is  not 
stronger,  there  is  not  a  household 
whose  life  is  not  sweeter,  because  of 
them.  That  "  revival  "  in  Macon  is 
widening  in  its  influence  unto  this, 
day. 

For  reasons  that  seemed  good,, 
and  were  good,  young  Smith  -was 
sent  to  Oglethorpe  University,  a 
Presbyterian  institution  of  learning- 
near  Milled geville,  Ga.  He  was 
here  the  pupil  and  intimate  friend  of 
Prof.  Charles  W.  Lane — "Charley" 
Lane,  as  he  was  familiarly  and  af- 
fectionately called.  Blessings  on  his 
memory !  He  was  professor  of 
mathematics  and  professor  of  re- 
ligion and  possessor  of  it — the  sun- 
niest, s^veetest  Calvinist  that  ever- 
nestled  close  to  the  hearts  of  Ar- 
minians  and  all  else  who  loved  the 
Master's  image  when  they  saw  it.- 

116 


IRobcrt  B.  Smitb. 


His  cottage  at  Mid-way  was  a 
Bethel ;  it  was  God's  house  and 
heaven's  gate.  The  writer  of  these 
pages  made  special  visits  to  it  in  the 
morning  days  of  his  own  Christian 
life,  and  on  leaving  carried  memo- 
ries that  he  treasures  in  his  heart 
now,  his  faith  in  the  Lord  strength- 
ened, and  his  sense  of  his  love  deep- 
ened. And  Prof.  Lane's  wife,  beau- 
tiful in  the  beauty  of  refined  and 
cultured  womanhood,  and  more 
beautiful  still  in  the  beauty  of  holi- 
ness, which  is  its  supreme  form  of 
manifestation — to  know  her  made 
"  it  easy  to  believe  in  a  heaven  that 
is  sinless,  where  white-robed  saints 
enjoy  together  the  vision  of  their 
beatified  Lord,  and  are  forever  with 
each  other  and  with  him."  The 
relation  of  teacher  and  pupil  was 
merged  into  that  of  friends,  and 
what  they  did  to  bless  and  bright- 
en each  other's  lives  none  can  tell. 
Thus  it  was  that  while  young  Smith 
was  working  for  his  university  de- 
117 


TRobert  B>  Smitb. 

gree,  he  was  taking-  highei"  degrees 
ill  the  new  life  he  had  begun.  If  all 
our  Christian  teachers  had  the  mag- 
netism and  sunshine  of  Prof.  Lane — 
stop  !  I  will  not  finish  the  sentence  ; 
the  gift  of  lovableness  is  not  pos- 
sessed in  the  same  measure  by  men 
equally  true  to  their  Lord.  There 
was  one  disciple  whom  Jesus  loved 
especially — on  the  human  side,  "we 
may  say — and  this  Presbyterian 
professor  of  mathematics  was  cast  in 
the  same  mold.  Query  here  :  Is  it 
not  possible  that  the  least  lovable  of 
all  our  religious  teachers  might  be- 
come more  attractive,  and  conse- 
({uently  more  influential  on  young 
lives,  if  they  nestled,  like  John,  more 
closely  in  the  bosom  of  their  Lord? 
Popularity  is  a  talent.  The  man 
who  has  but  one  at  the  start  may 
make  it  ten  if  he  will  put  that  one  to 
usury  as  his  Master  directs.  Amia- 
bility is  natural ;  spiritual  attraction 
is  supernatural. 

Young  Smith  graduated,  and  left 
118 


IRobert  B,  Smitb. 


the  university  fortified  in  his  Chris- 
tian principles  and  active  in  the 
discharge  of  his  Christian  duties 
(thanks  to  God  and  to  his  faitla- 
ful  teachers),  not  forgetting  the 
prayers  of  his  mother,  w^ho,  w^e 
may  be  sure,  never  forgot  her  boy 
in  her  approaches  to  the  throne  of 
grace.  He  then  studied  law.  It 
v\^as  expected  somehow  by  most  of 
his  friends  that  he  would  preach. 
Then,  as  now,  when  a  young  man 
exhibited  a  little  more  zeal  and  en- 
ergy than  was  common  among  lay- 
men, the  notion  would  be  enter- 
tained at  once  that  he  was  "  called 
to  preach."  As  if  the  Lord  had  no 
use  for  laymen  who  put  religion 
first  in  all  things  and  at  all  times ! 
It  has  happened  that  a  young  man 
has  mistaken  a  call  to  be  useful  for 
a  call  to  preach.  And  it  has  hap- 
pened that  well-meaning  but  mis- 
guided men,  preachers  themselves, 
have  vmvi^isely  called  men  to  preach 
who   were   uncalled   of    God.      The 

119 


IRobcrt  B.  Smitb. 


soul  can  best  settle  that  matter  with 
him.  If  the  fire  of  that  call  is  in  a 
man's  bones,  he  will  feel  it  and 
know  it.  Bob  Smith  certainly  had 
the  gifts  and  culture  that  would 
have  raised  him  above  the  level  of 
mediocrity  as  a  preacher,  but  who 
can  think  that  he  was  less  useful  as. 
a  Christian  lawyer?  A  Christian 
lawyer !  The  w^ords,  to  some  read- 
ers, may  sound  like  a  contradictioiT 
in  terms.  Nay,  nay  !  The  shyster 
is  the  meanest  of  men — meaner  than' 
the  meanest  of  his  criminal  clients,, 
because  to  the  cupidity  of  the  thief 
and  the  cruelty  of  the  murderer  he- 
superadds  the  Satanic  cunning  pe- 
culiar to  his  craft.  But  there  is  no- 
higher  style  of  man  than  a  Christiai^ 
lawyer  who  is  worthy  of  the  name.. 
He  has  not  only  a  heart  moved 
by  Christian  impulses,  bvit  a  mind 
trained  to  see  clearly  in  all  ethical' 
matters ;  he  knows  what  is  right.. 
Take  out  of  the  history  of  civiliza- 
tion and  the  work  of  the  Church  of 

120 


IRobcrt  B.  Smitb, 


Christ  what  has  been  contributed  by 
Christian  lawyers,  and  who  could 
measure  the  loss? 

When  St.  Paul  told  the  young 
preacher,  Timothy,  to  bring  with 
him  Zenas,  the  lawyer,  he  had  nee'd 
of  such  a  man  in  Crete,  where  the 
Church  had  been  disturbed  by  "  fool- 
ish questions,  and  genealogies,  and 
contentions,  and  strivings  about  the 
the  law,"  which  he  declared  were 
"  unprofitable  and  vain."  Zenas  was 
now  a  Christian,  and  his  legal 
knowledge  and  training  made  him  a 
safe  adviser  in  the  midst  of  all  the 
babble  that  was  going  on.  Every 
local  Church  organization  on  earth 
would  be  the  better  for  having  at 
least  one  Christian  lawyer  among 
its  membership.  May  their  tribe 
increase !  And  may  the  shyster  in 
law  and  the  quack  in  medicine  be 
kept  out  of  the  Church,  and  find 
their  proper  places  in  the  penitenti- 
ary !  And  who  -would  object  if  the 
dishonest  tradesman,  mechanic,  and 

121 


IRobert  B,  Smitb. 


politician    should    be    sent    to    keep 
them  company  ? 

Having  been  admitted  to  the  bar, 
he  opened  his  law  office  and  began 
the  practice  of  his  profession.  He 
was  perhaps  the  busiest  man  in  the 
city,  and  the  best  employed.  "He 
had  a  great  influence  for  good,"  says 
one  who  knew  him  well,  "  and  oc- 
cupying the  first  place  in  Macon  so- 
ciety, he  exerted  it  in  all  circles." 
Yes,  truly  in  all  circles  he  made  him- 
self felt  for  good.  It  is  bewildering 
to  think  of  all  he  did.  But  he  found 
time — no,  he  took  time — to  be  trus- 
tee, ste-ward,  and  class  leader ;  he 
taught  the  Bible  class  in  the  Sunday 
school ;  he  founded  and  superin- 
tended a  mission  Sunday  school,  out 
of  which  sprung  First  Street  Meth- 
odist Church;  he  visited  the  county 
jail  once  a  week  ;  he  visited  and  re- 
lieved the  sick  and  the  poor,  and  in- 
cited others  to  do  likewise  ;  to  every 
good  cause  he  gave  liberally ;  and 
took  part  in  every  Christian  enter- 

122 


■Robert  21,  Smitb. 


prise.  How  he  did  it  all  was  a 
marvel  to  all  who  knew  him.  The 
explanation  is  that  he  ^vas  "  diligent 
in  business,  fervent  in  spirit,  serving 
the  Lord."  This  threefold  combi- 
nation— diligence,  fervor,  and  the 
spirit  of  service — will  work  aston- 
ishing results  in  any  Christian  life. 
Of  course  he  lived  by  rule ;  he  had 
set  times  for  private  prayer,  and  -was 
pvmctual  in  attendance  upon  public 
worship,  and  in  the  use  of  the  means 
of  grace.  But  his  life  did  not  re- 
volve on  an  axis  of  mere  habit. 
His  activity  was  limited  only  by  his 
opportunity,  and  opportunity  comes 
to  such  men  in  a  way  that  the  non- 
responsive  and  perfunctory  pro- 
fessor cannot  at  all  comprehend. 
A  young  man  who  had  just  risen 
from  a  long  spell  of  typhoid  fever 
at  one  of  the  Macon  hotels,  pale  and 
weak  and  thin,  attended  the  Mulber- 
ry Street  Methodist  Church  one 
night,  and  heard  a  sermon  by  the 
pastor.     On    his    way    back    to    his 

123 


IRobert  B.  Smitb. 


hotel  he  suddenly  found  a  hand 
upon  his  arm,  and  a  friendly  voice 
said  :  "  Excuse  the  liberty  I  am  tak- 
ing ;  but,  as  you  are  a  stranger,  I 
introduce  myself,  and  -with  your  per- 
mission will  walk  with  you.  I  see 
that  you  have  been  sick,  and  are  yet 
weak ;  lean  on  me,  if  you  please." 
The  arm  that  he  took  is  the  arm 
that  moves  the  pen  that  traces  these 
lines  on  this  page.  The  friendship 
begun  that  night  -will  never  end. 
"  Lean  on  me."  Yes,  yes,  beloved 
friend  of  friends,  I  am  leaning  on 
you  still.  Many  leaned  on  you 
while  you  were  living ;  your  exam- 
ple and  influence  fortify  and  en- 
courage them  to  this  hour.  He 
w^ould  not  say  it  for  himself,  but  -we 
will  say  it  for  him  :  "  When  the  ear 
heard  me,  then  it  blessed  me ;  and 
when  the  eye  saw  me,  it  gave  "wit- 
ness to  me  :  because  I  delivered  the 
poor  that  cried,  and  the  fatherless, 
and  him  that  had  none  to  help  him. 
The  blessing  of  him  that  was  ready 

124 


IRobert  H.  Smitb. 


to  perish  came  upon  me :  and  I 
caused  the  -widow's  heart  to  sing  for 
joy.  ...  I  was  eyes  to  the 
blind,  and  feet  was  I  to  the  lame.  I 
was  a  father  to  the  poor :  and  the 
cause  which  I  knew  not  I  searched 
out."  (Job  xxix.  11-16.)  This 
Georgia  lawyer  might  have  sat  for 
this  picture  ;  it  is  a  photograph  true 
to  the  life.  The  inmates  of  the 
Georgia  Academy  for  the  Blind  re- 
garded him  with  special  affection. 
He  was  one  of  its  Trustees  or  Board 
of  Visitors,  and  every  sad-faced  child 
in  the  institution  brightened  at  the 
mention  of  his  name.  The  hardened 
faces  of  the  malefactors  in  the  jail 
softened  in  his  presence  and  their 
hearts  melted  under  his  words,  and 
some  of  them,  helped  by  his  prayers, 
saw  the  Sinless  One  who  hung 
guiltless  upon  a  cross,  and  found 
pardon  and  peace  and  salvation 
through  him.  The  women  who 
were  sinners  of  the  grosser  sort — the 
Magdalenes  who  were  sick  or  dying 

2  125 


IRobert  21.  Smitb» 

"or  penitent — believing  that  he  was 
a  true  follower  of  the  true  Christ, 
who  absolved  the  woman  taken  in 
her  sin,  who  .had  no  pitying  eye  or 
kindly  word  from  others,  were 
pointed  by  him  to  the  same  all-lov- 
ing Saviour,  and  had  their  hell  of 
sin  turned  into  the  heaven  of  his 
mercy. 

If  he  had  one  carnal  hankering 
that  clung  to  him,  it  was  his  military 
enthusiasm.  He  Avas  not  a  Quaker. 
The  Revolutionary  blood  was  in  his 
veins.  He  was  captain  of  a  famous 
military  company,  the  Macon  Vol- 
unteers. They  w^ere  gallant  fellows, 
the  flower  of  the  yovxng  manhood 
of  the  city.  With  their  bright  uni- 
forms, white  plumes,  and  skillful 
evolutions  they  made  a  gallant  show, 
and  were  the  pets  of  the  city.  Once, 
when  a  half-serious  allusion  was 
made  to  his  military  ardor  as  rather 
incongruous  with  the  rest  of  his  char- 
acter, he  answered  with  warmth : 
"  I   pity   the   man   whose  pulses  do- 

126 


IRobert  B.  Smitb, 


not  thrill  at  the  sound  of  the  drum 
and  the  fife."  He  loved  that  sort  of 
music,  but  he  loved  the  songs  of 
Zion  still  better,  and  the  voice  of 
prayer.  He  was  in  this  matter  not 
much  in  advance  of  the  Christen- 
dom of  his  time  and  of  this  time. 
War  is  not  yet  an  extinct  barbarism  ; 
but  it  will  be  when  Christendom,  so 
called,  becomes  really  Christian. 

At  that  time  in  Georgia  there  was 
a  special  interest  among  our  people 
with  regard  to  Sanctification.  Such 
ministers  as  Edw^ard  H.  Myers, 
William  M.  Crumley,  T.  J.  Pearce, 
Walter  R.  Branham,  James  E. 
Evans,  Robert  B.  Lester,  and  last, 
but  not  least,  Samuel  Anthony,  were 
deeply  concerned  about  it.  The  lit- 
erature of  the  subject  was  specially 
studied,  and  they  were  fired  with  zeal 
that  was  consuming.  They  set  the 
standard  of  religious  attainment  high 
in  their  sermons,  and  tried  to  live 
accordingly.  Then,  as  now,  there 
were  differences  in  the  statement  of 

I  127 


IRobert  H.  Smitb. 


the  doctrine,  but  there  "was  a  general 
adherence  to  Bible  terminology  in 
the  presentation  of  the  subject,  and 
general  agreement  that  Sanctifica- 
tion  in  a  true  and  blessed  sense  was 
attainable,  and  therefore  to  be  sought 
and  enjoyed  by  every  child  of  God. 
Child  of  God?  The  familiar  Bible 
phrase  carries  with  it  in  this  connec- 
tion a  whole  world  of  gracious  sug- 
gestion to  the  thoughtful,  respon- 
sive believer.  The  child  of  God  is 
the  heir  of  God.  Who  shall  limit 
his  patrimony  of  grace  ?  All  Geor- 
gia vs^as  on  fire ;  the  holy  flame  il- 
luminated its  pulpits,  and  glowed  in 
the  social  meetings  and  homes. 
Laymen  like  Matthew  Rylander,  of 
Macon,  caught  its  breath  ;  who  that 
ever  heard  him  in  one  of  his  mighty 
prayers  could  doubt  that  he  had  re- 
ceived a  touch  from  the  live  coal 
fresh  from  the  altar?  A  prayer 
meeting  talk  by  Robert  Smith,  the 
singing  led  by  Ed  Saulsbury,  and 
Rylander  giving  the  pitch  to  its 
128 


IRobcrt  B.  Smftb 


prayers,  recalled  New  Testament 
history,  and  demonstrated  that  the 
breath  of  power  and  the  tongues  of 
fire  were  still  in  the  militant  Church 
of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  Though 
he  never  professed  entire  Sanctifica- 
tion,  so  far  as  is  known,  Smith  lived 
a  consecrated  life.  Fortunately,  the 
prevalent  interest  in  this  matter  did 
not  expend  itself  in  controversy  to 
any  considerable  extent.  Full  con- 
secration in  the  present  tense  and 
love  in  full  measure  as  its  fruit  were 
the  points  preached  and  practiced. 
They  found  the  word  "  Sanctifica- 
tion "  in  the  New  Testament,  and 
they  were  not  afraid  of  it  on  the 
one  hand,  nor  did  they  make  it 
a  party  watchword  on  the  other. 
They  sought  rather  to  "  walk  wor- 
thy of  the  vocation  wherewith  they 
were  called,  with  all  lowliness  and 
meekness,  with  long-suffering,  for- 
bearing one  another  in  love  ;  endeav- 
oring to  keep  the  unity  of  the  Spirit 
in   the  bond  of   peace."      (Eph.  iv, 

9  129 


IRobcrt  21,  Smitb. 

1-3.)  The  proof  of  inward  union 
is  outward  peace.  Unity  of  faith^ 
experience,  and  practice  is  main- 
tained by  lowliness,  meekness,  and 
long-suffering.  Above  all  their  gifts, 
and  graces  they  put  on  the  charity 
(love)  which  is  the  bond  of  per- 
fectness.  When  this  grace  girdles^ 
the  Church  it  shines  in  holy,  beau- 
ty, and  its  peace  flows  as  a  riv- 
er. Sanctification  was  preached  and 
sung  and  prayed  and  practiced,  but 
rarely  was  it  made  the  subject  of 
dispute  among  brethren.  Call  it 
perfect  love,  and  preach  it  and  IWe 
it,  and  Sanctification  will  be  our  joy 
and  our  song  as  it  was  with  our  fa- 
thers. 

The  great  joy  of  his  life  on  the 
human  side  and  its  greatest  sorrow 
came  close  together  in  his  marriage 
to  Katherine  Dowdell  and  her  death 
the  same  year,  1850.  She  was  a 
woman  of  rare  loveliness  of  person 
and  of  character,  and  he  gave  her  the 
devotion  of    his   great   manly  soul. 

130 


IRobert  B,  Smltb» 


Her  death  seemed  to  intensify  his 
devotion  to  the  Church.  Following 
in  the  footsteps  of  his  Lord — if  the 
expression  may  be  ventured  without 
seeming  presumption  or  irreverence 
— after  she  died  the  Church  became 
his  bride.  But  her  image  never  left 
his  soul.  Five  years  afterwards,  in 
a  letter  to  the  writer  of  this  sketch 
dated  Macon,  April  lo,  1856,  he 
writes : 

This  is  spring,  Oscar.  Before  it  came 
I  thought  of  its  coming:  of  the  resurrec- 
tion in  nature,  of  flowers,  of  forest  leaves, 
and  vernal  song.  She  who  made  life  all 
spring  to  me,  she  who  lingered  with  me 
but  one  spring  and  fell  asleep  before  the 
flowers  withered;  she  who  haunts  the 
springtime  still — I  feel  her  breath  in  the 
breeze,  the  touch  of  her  soft  hand  seems 
left  on  the  flowers,  the  tender  light  of  her 
eyes  is  in  my  vision,  the  gliding  form 
seems  to  have  been  late  in  mj  chamber, 
and  I  look  up ;  but  she  is  gone.  Five  years 
are  but  a  dream.  She  was  here.  I  never 
think  of  her  dust  sleeping  under  the 
long-leaved  pine,  for  she  said:  "I  shall 
soon  hear  the  angels  sing,  and  sing  with 
131 


IRobert  B.  Smitb. 


them  in  heaven."  I  never  heard  her 
sing  but  once ;  I  long  to  hear  her  sing 
again.  Shall  we  not  learn  the  new  song 
unto  him  that  loved  us? 

In  another  letter  to  me,  written  the 
same  year,  he  reminded  me  that 
heaven  was  as  near  from  Sonora,. 
Cal.,  as  from  Macon,  Ga,,  and  said  : 
"  Let  us  burn  here  with  love  now, 
so  that  we  may  burn  before  the 
throne  forever." 

A  little  more  than  a  year  after- 
wards, on  June  22,  1857,  in  another- 
letter  from  him,  alluding  to  an  ex- 
pression in  one  of  my  letters  to  him, 
he  speaks  characteristically  in  these 
words,  which  the  reader  will  think, 
worth  quoting  : 

You  tell  of  trials,  and  speak  of  jour 
Deliverer;  you  wrote  of  storms,  and  of 
Him  who  walks  the  waves  and  stills  the 
storm;  you  were  crowded  with  duties, 
but  crowded  with  mercies.  Crowded 
with  mercies?  O  yes,  how  mercies 
crowd  around  us,  above  us,  within  us, 
beneath  us!  mercies  from  on  high,  new 
every  morning,  crowding  early;  mercies. 
132 


IRobert  B.  Smitb. 


in  the  air,  tlie  light,  the  sunshine,  the 
shade,  the  storm ;  mercies  in  food  and 
raiment,  in  health  and  sickness,  in  trials 
and  tribulations,  in  friends  and  foes; 
mercies  in  the  home  and  solitary  place, 
in  the  city  and  in  the  field,  in  the  family 
and  in  the  midst  of  strangers,  in  the  closet 
and  in  the  sanctuary,  in  the  altar  and  the 
Sacrifice,  in  the  pulpit  and  in  the  High 
Priest;  mercies  in  all  things,  everywhere, 
higher  than  the  heavens,  enduring  for- 
ever; mercies  like  daily  manna,  the  an- 
gels' food ;  like  the  night  dews  unseen  dis- 
tilling, on  Hermon  seen,  watering,  re- 
freshing, enriching,  rejoicing;  like  the 
early  rain,  the  liberal  showers,  the  need- 
ful latter  rain;  like  the  unseen,  all-seeing 
wind,  breathing,  enlivening,  blessing; 
like  the  wind  free,  like  the  wind  in  power, 
like  the  breeze  gentle;  like  Mother  Earth 
never  failing  in  springs  and  streams, 
and  fruits  and  flowers;  like  the  exhaust- 
less  sun  in  perpetual  copious  light ;  like  the 
heavens  stretched  out  over  us,  forever 
covering  us;  mercies  minute  and  infinite, 
opening  the  eyelids  of  the  soul,  and  like 
angels  bearing  the  soul  from  the  darkness, 
sin,  and  slime  of  earth  into  the  presence 
and  communion  of  the  All-merciful  One. 
O  the  mercies  of  our  God  over  man  un- 
godly, forever  singing  to  draw  from  man 
133 


IRobert  21.  Smitb. 


a  song!  Mercies  in  crowds  and  single — 
all  like  God  the  Giver,  and  in  each  his 
smiling  face  is  seen  to  one  who  sees 
through  contrite,  grateful  tears. 

The  reader  -who  is  familiar  -with 
the  Bible  will  see  that  it  is  a  para- 
phrase of  Bible  language  on  the 
mercy  of  God  by  one  who  was  sat- 
urated with  its  spirit,  and  used  its 
form  of  speech  as  a  matter  of  course. 
The  dialect  of  Canaan  had  become 
as  natural  to  him  as  the  provincial- 
isins  of  his  native  Georgia  are  to  its 
many  humorists  on  the  platform  and 
on  the  printed  page.  From  this 
same  letter  another  brief  extract  is 
given  : 

Truly  you  are  an  itinerant,  but  you 
can  read  the  eleventh  chapter  of  He- 
brews and  rejoice.  When  you  and  your 
w"ife  grow  weary,  pray  together  for  a 
lively  view  of  the  rest  in  reserve.  When 
your  hearts  yearn  for  the  East,  turn  your 
longing  eyes  to  the  home  above.  O  may 
you  always  have  a  heaven  in  your  hearts! 
When  you  open  the  door,  I  know  Who 
will  enter  in  and  sup  with  you.  One 
hour  with  Jesus  can  repay  you  for  toiling 
134 


IRobert  H.  Smitb, 


through  a  sea  of  troubles.  Amid  all 
jour  duties  be  sure  to  enjoy  a  happj  hour 
with  him  morning,  noon,  and  night.  He 
■will  he  "With  you  ahvays  if  you  love  his  coin- 
pMiy.  Do  jou  expect  him  to  do  many 
mighty  works  in  San  Jose  this  year?  He 
can  do  "  exceeding  abundantly  above  all 
that  we  ask  or  think."  Cast  in  your  net  on 
the  other  side  of  the  ship,  and  then  "  draw 
in."  In  all  your  desires,  purposes,  and  sup- 
plications hear  the  Voice  sounding  from 
above,  saying:  "Prove  Me."  Can  the  wind 
blow  on  more  bodies  than  the  Spirit  can  on 
souls?  Sow  the  seed  of  eternal  life  not 
only  among  the  congregation  who  hear 
the  word,  but  bear  it  from  house  to  house, 
from  man  to  man,  until  you  have  sown  a 
large  field ;  then  call  for  the  Sun,  the  dew, 
the  rain,  and  the  wind ;  then  reap  a  harvest 
with  songs  of  great  joy.  Pardon  these 
words  from  your  brother.  You  know  that 
I  covet  for  your  hire  many  souls.  How 
many,  O  how  many  souls  in  San  Josd  will 
the  Lord  give  you?  May  he  add  unto 
the  Church  daily  such  as  shall  be  saved! 

The  young  preacher  in  California 
to  whom  he  wrote  many  such  letters, 
knowing  him  as  he  did,  recognized 
in  every  word  a  heart  throb.  He 
wrote  in  this  spirit  to  many  men 
135 


IRobert  B.  Smttb. 


and  women.  His  pen  was  conse- 
crated to  his  Lord,  and  by  it  he  yet 
speaks. 

He  made  it  a  rule — nay,  it  might 
be  better  to  say  that  his  glo\ving 
Christian  heart  prompted  him — to 
try  to  do  good  to  every  soul  within 
his  reach.  The  gifted,  but  skeptical 
and  rather  cynical,  Gov.  George  W. 
Towns  was  by  his  influence  brought 
to  Christ,  and  died  in  the  enjoyment 
of  a  satisfying  Christian  experience. 
While  on  a  summer  visit  to  the 
North  he  met  on  one  of  the  Hudson 
River  boats  a  lady  and  her  sick 
daughter,  who  was  perishing  slowly 
by  pulmonary  consumption.  Acting 
upon  the  principle  or  impulse  that 
ruled  his  life,  he  sought  their  com- 
pany, and  tendered  them  the  courte- 
sies and  little  good  ofiices  so  much- 
appreciated  by  gentlewomen  w^hen 
rendered  with  the  delicacy  and  grace 
of  the  true  gentleman.  Then,  with 
the  tact  born  of  a  Christian  zeal  that 
was    according    to    knowledge,    he; 

136 


TRobert  B.  Smltb. 


talked  to  the  fair  invalid  about  her 
soul  and  her  Saviour.  Sometime 
after  his  return  to  Georgia  he  re- 
ceived a  letter  from  the  mother, 
grief-smitten  yet  grateful,  telling 
him  that  her  daughter  had  by  his 
influence  been  led  to  Christ ;  that  she 
had  found  peace  in  believing,  and 
had  died  a  happy  Christian.  He 
thus  sowed  beside  all  waters.  The 
harvest  was  rich  ;  how  reproductive 
it  was  and  is  cannot  be  estimated 
now  :  the  day  will  declare  it. 

When  the  war  between  the  States 
began,  he  took  the  field  with  his 
company,  the  Macon  Volunteers, 
and  was  among  the  first  of  the 
Georgians  to  report  for  duty  in  Vir- 
ginia. He  was  elected  colonel  of  a 
regiment  of  Georgia  soldiers  in  rec- 
ognition of  his  courage  and  ability 
as  an  officer.  Though  his  health 
had  been  much  impaired,  he  refused 
to  take  a  furlough.  The  battle  of 
Seven  Pines  came  on,  and  he  was 

with  his  regiment  in  the  thickest  of 
137 


TRobert  21.  Smitb. 

that  terrific  fight.  While  leading 
his  regiment  in  one  of  its  desperate 
•charges  he  fell,  shot  through  the 
body,  and  died  in  a  few  minutes. 
What  a  death  for  such  a  man !  It 
may  have  been  a  Methodist  marks- 
man who  pulled  the  trigger  of  the 
rifle  that  laid  him  low.  And  how 
strange  seems  all  that  bloody  conflict 
now  !  Stone"wall  Jackson  and  How- 
ard, Fisk  and  Colquitt — Christian 
men  on  opposite  sides — settling  a 
difference  of  opinion  with  carnal 
weapons  more  than  eighteen  centu- 
ries after  the  angels  at  Bethlehem 
sang  their  song  of  joy  at  the  advent 
of  the  Prince  of  Peace ! 

The  golden  age  is  coming  when  the 
nations  shall  learn  war  no  more  ;  but 
I  weigh  the  words  when  I  say,  in 
closing  this  booklet,  that  no  soldier 
of  Jesus  Christ  was  truer  to  his 
Lord,  no  soldier  of  the  "  Lost  Cause  " 
was  truer  to  his  political  convictions 
than  was  this  man,  whose  name  is 
the  synonym  of  what  is  noblest  in 

138 


IRobert  B.  Smitb. 


genuine  manhood,  and  what  is  most 
admirable  and  worthy  of  imitation 
in  Christian  character — Robert  A. 
Smith.  His  body  sleeps  at  Rose 
Hill  Cemetery,  Macon,  beside  the 
bodies  of  his  father  and  mother  and 
his  beautiful  bride  who  died  in  her 
bloom,  the  Ocmulgee  flowing  by  as 
it  did  when  he  played  on  its  banks 
or  sported  in  its  waters. 

139 


ROBERT  ALEXANDER, 

The  Pioneer  Missionary  to  Texas. 
1811-1882. 


ROBERT  ALEXANDER, 
Missionary  to  Texas  " — that 
was  his  appointment  as  it  was 
read  out  at  the  close  of  the  Missis- 
sippi Conference  held  at  Natchez  in 
1837. 

Missionary  to  Texas !  He  was 
the  man  for  that  work.  It  was  a 
big  appointment  for  a  big  man — big 
every  way,  in  body,  brain,  and  soul. 
In  1837  Texas  was  as  big  as  it  is 
now,  covering  eleven  degrees  of 
latitude  and  thirteen  of  longitude, 
with  175,000,000  acres  of  land. 

Missionary  to  Texas  !  It  was  an 
heroic  movement,  with  a  tinge  of 
romance.  At  that  time  Texas  was  a 
Mexican    province.       Protestantism 

141 


IRobert  BleianOcr, 


■was  an  outla^ved  heresy.  Roman- 
ism had  long  been  the  established 
religion,  so  called — that  is,  the  re- 
ligion of  the  Mexican  Empire.  But 
no  civil  power  can  "  establish "  the 
religion  of  Christ,  who  said :  "  My 
kingdom  is  not  of  this  world."  The 
day  for  state  religions  is  passing 
away.  The  King  of  kings  is  the 
only  Supreme  Head  of  the  Church. 

At  San  Jacinto  the  desperate  valor 
of  the  heroic  Texans  won  the  in- 
dependence of  Texas.  The  blood 
tingles  to  this  day  as  we  read  the 
description  of  their  resistless  charge 
over  the  breastworks  of  the  Mexi- 
cans. When  Texas  independence 
was  won,  it  was  only  a  question  of 
time  when  religious  freedom  would 
come  in  with  an  open  Bible  and  a 
free  gospel. 

Robert  Alexander  was  one  of  the 
many  gifts  of  Tennessee  to  Texas 
in  the  formative  period  of  its  history. 
He  was  born  in  Smith  County,  in 
the  Cumberland  River  hill  country, 

142 


IRobert  2llcianJ)er. 

where  the  springs  were  sweet  and 
cool,  the  creeks  clear  and  sparkling, 
the  forests  thick  and  grand,  the 
fruits  luscious,  the  grain  crops  luxu- 
riant and  of  good  quality,  the  women 
womanly  and  sweet,  the  men  man- 
ly and  brave,  and  the  Methodists 
many  and  militant.  Smith  County 
adjoined  Sumner  County,  which 
gave  Col.  Jack  Hays,  the  renowned 
Ranger,  to  Texas,  and  many  more 
of  like  quality,  though  less  famous. 
Young  Alexander  was  awakened  to 
a  sense  of  his  condition  as  a  sinner, 
was  thoroughly  converted  to  God, 
and  united  with  the  Methodist 
Church  in  1828,  at  the  age  of  seven- 
teen ;  in  1829  he  was  licensed  to  ex- 
hort; in  1830  he  was  licensed  to 
preach,  and  the  same  year  he  was  ad- 
mitted into  the  Tennessee  Conference 
on  trial.  He  served  in  turn  the  Bed- 
ford, Goose  Creek,  Fountain  Head, 
Murfreesboro,  and  Mill  Creek  Cir- 
cuits. He  was  first  transferred  to 
the  Alabama  Conference  ;  but  before 

J  143 


IRobert  BleianOer. 


he  had  entered  upon  that  field  he 
was  transferred  to  the  Mississippi 
Conference,  and  appointed  to  Port 
Gibson  and  Grand  Gulf,  In  1835 
he  was  made  Superintendent  of  the 
Chickasaw  District,  and  began  the 
sort  of  work  which  thenceforth  was 
to  be  peculiarly  his  own,  the  occu- 
pancy and  organization  of  new  fields 
of  evangelization.  In  the  fall  of 
1836  he  was  stationed  at  Natchez. 
Before  that  year  closed  he  was  ap- 
pointed to  a  larger  field  as  missionary 
to  Texas.  His  family  was  of  the 
North  Carolina  Alexanders.  They 
were  a  sturdy  clan.  Covenanters  in 
Scotland,  and  among  the  very  first 
to  set  the  ball  of  liberty  to  rolling  in 
America.  Two  of  them  vv'ere  sign- 
ers of  the  Mecklenburg  Declara 
tion  of  Independence.  It  was  a  fam- 
ily much  given  to  preaching,  pedago- 
gy, and  a  patriotism  ever  ready  to 
talk  or  fight  for  their  country.  They 
made  Presbyterians  of  the  stron- 
gest and  best  type.    Such  of  them  as 

144 


TRobcrt  aieianDer. 


became  Methodists  went  their  whole 
length  as  Methodists  in  their  theolo- 
gy and  Christian  experience.  When 
one  of  them  was  a  Hardshell,  he 
was  hard  indeed — double-cased  and 
almost  impenetrable.  And  when 
one  of  them  was  on  the  devil's  side, 
he  was  no  halfway  adherent  of  the 
Prince  of  Darkness. 

Robert  Alexander  -was  truly  well 
chosen  as  Missionary  to  Texas — a 
man  six  feet  five  inches  high,  straight 
as  a  Tennessee  poplar,  with  reddish 
hair  (the  reader  may  know  just  what 
that  shade  is),  kindly  but  keen  blue 
eyes,  a  face  with  as  many  angles  as 
a  conch  shell,  thin  lips  expressing 
indomitable  purpose,  and  a  gait  easy, 
quick,  and  strong,  suited  to  one  who 
loved  to  go  and  tvould  go  when  and 
whither  God  called  him. 

Robert  Alexander,  on  receiving 
his  appointment  as  missionary  to 
Texas,  at  once  started  for  his  work 
on  horseback.  There  is  no  record 
extant  of  his  long  ride  through  the 

10  145 


IRobert  aieian&er. 

forests,  swamps,  and  prairies.  Such 
a  record  would  have  made  as  good 
reading  as  Asbury's  Journal.  Our 
heroic  old  pioneer  bishop  never  made 
a  journey  through  a  region  more  in- 
teresting in  its  natural  features  or 
more  abundant  in  hardships  or  more 
lively  in  its  incidents.  But  our  tall 
missionary  was  never  much  given 
to  writing ;  he  was  from  first  to  last 
a  traveling  preacher  who  made  his- 
tory for  others  to  write.  He  crossed 
the  Sabine  River,  and  entered  Texas 
in  Sabine  County,  August  19,  1837, 
and  that  very  day  preached  his  first 
sermon  to  the  people.  The  next 
day,  and  the  next  day  after  that,  he 
also  preached.  Within  five  weeks 
he  had  organized  the  San  Augustine 
Circuit,  held  his  first  Quarterly  Con- 
ference in  connection  with  a  camp 
meeting,  and  licensed  two  men  to 
exhort,  both  of  whom  afterwards  be- 
came traveling  preachers.  Leaving 
in  the  hands  of  the  two  licentiates 
the  work  he  had  thus  organized,  he 

1*  146 


IRobert  BleianOet. 


hurried  on  to  Austin  County,  where 
he  held  another  camp  meeting  and 
■organized  the  Washington  Circuit. 

That  is  the  way  the  Missionary 
to  Texas  began  his  "vs^ork.  It  almost 
takes  one's  breath  to  keep  up  with 
him  !  Little  time  had  he  for  entries 
in  a  diary  or  for  writing  letters  to 
the  Church  papers,  if  there  had  been 
any  to  write  to.  As  he  began,  so  he 
continued  for  forty-five  years — a 
swift-moving  itinerant,  a  missionary 
de  facto ^  in  whose  tracks  freedom, 
civilization,  and  evangelical  Chris- 
tianity sprung  up  and  flourished. 
The  Texas  people  recognized  in  him 
the  qualities  that  compel  confidence 
and  respect.  "As  a  man  he  was 
just,  honorable,  and  brave,"  says  a 
Texan  who  knew  him  well.  These 
three  descriptives  put  him  before  us 
as  he  was — just,  honorable,  brave. 
Bravery  there  and  then  was  a  quali- 
ty not  to  be  despised.  There  were 
many  rough  fellows  who  had  to  be 
met  on  their  own  ground,  and  lewd 
147 


IRobert  aician&et. 


iellows  of  the  baser  sort  who  could 
not  understand  moral  suasion,  and 
were  ready  to  mistake  meekness 
for  cowardice.  Such  a  fellow  was 
one  Johnson,  who,  at  a  religious 
meeting  near  where  Milam  now 
stands,  appeared  on  the  ground  with 
a  heavy  whip  in  his  hand,  and  de- 
clared that  he  would  flog  the  first 
preacher  who  took  the  stand.  Just 
then  the  stalwart  Needham  J.  Al- 
ford,  a  Methodist  local  preacher, 
rode  up.  He  was  apprised  of  John- 
son's threat.  «  Well,"  said  he,  "  I 
am  as  able  to  take  a  whipping  as 
any  man  on  this  ground,"  ascending 
the  stand  or  rostrum  as  he  spoke, 
and  stretching  forth  his  long,  brawny 
arm.  Johnson  looked  keenly  at  the 
strongly  built,  sinewy  preacher — 
and  quietly  left.  This  incident  is 
given  here  to  illustrate  the  men  and 
the  times,  not  to  encourage  imitation. 
Muscular  Christianity  may  have  its 
value  and  its  place.  But  it  is  not  its 
highest  type.     The  fortitude  which 

148 


IRobert  BIcianDer. 


is  the  chronic  form  of  courage  is 
that  which  is  needed  in  all  the  work 
of  the  Christian  ministry  and  in  all 
Christian  service  everywhere  and  at 
all  times.  When  in  an  angry  mo- 
ment the  impulsive  apostle  Peter 
jerked  his  sword  from  its  scabbard 
and  cut  off  the  high  priest's  servant's 
ear — aiming  to  cut  off  his  head  in- 
stead— he  did  what  some  w^ould  call 
a  brave  act,  yet  Peter  was  the  very 
man  who  weakened  and  quailed 
M^hen  his  blood  had  cooled.  But  in 
the  school  of  Christ  he  was  a  learner 
until  he  attained  unto  the  loftier 
courage  that  not  only  dares,  but  en- 
dures. He  endured  to  the  end,  dy- 
ing a  martyr's  death  w^ithout  flinch- 
ing and  without  bravado.  The  tra- 
dition that  he  asked  to  be  crucified 
with  his  head  downward  is  probably 
an  invention  ;  such  a  request  was  not 
the  normal  expression  of  the  charac- 
ter of  the  Peter  who  w^as  chastened 
in  spirit,  ripened  in  experience,  and 
ready    for   his   change.      Alexander 

149 


IRobert  Blcian&ec. 


had  genuine  bravery  in  every  good 
sense  of  the  v^ord.  "A  sight  of  his 
stalvs^art  form  and  unquailing  eye 
satisfied  evil-disposed  persons  that 
it  inight  be  a  pretty  serious  business 
to  attempt  any  undue  familiarities," 
says  Dr.  Thrall,  the  historian  of 
Texas  Methodism. 

Alexander's  common  sense  was 
as  conspicuous  as  his  courage,  and 
he  had  v\^hat  one  who  knew  him 
well  styled  "  a  mellow  Christian 
experience."  This  last-mentioned 
attainment  was  chiefest  of  all ;  w^ith- 
out  it,  with  his  environment  and  un- 
der the  pressure  of  the  circumstances, 
he  might  have  gone  into  politics  and 
made  shipwreck  of  faith,  or  been 
•drowned  in  secularity  in  some  one 
of  the  many  ways  in  which  it  ap- 
peals to  men  of  exceptional  ener- 
gy and  brain  power  in  a  new  coun- 
try. Turning  neither  to  the  right* 
hand  nor  to  the  left,  he  w^ent  straight 
on  in  the  discharge  of  his  duty  as  a 
Methodist  preacher.     "  He  was  on 

150 


IRobert  Bleian&er. 


circuits  and  stations  thirteen  years ; 
-presiding  elder,  twenty-three  ;  Bible 
Agent,  four  ;  and  on  the  superannu- 
ated list,  four.  In  the  absence  of  a 
bishop  he  was  four  times  elected 
President  of  the  Texas  Conference. 
He  was  elected  reserve  delegate  to 
the  General  Conference  in  1844; 
'was  a  delegate  to  the  Convention 
-at  Louisville  that  organized  the 
Methodist  Episcopal  Church,  South  ; 
and  was  a  member  of  every  Gen- 
eral Conference  until  his  death." 
(Thrall's  "History.") 

While  Dr.  Alexander  was  popu- 
lar with  the  masses  of  the  people,  he 
w^as  specially  and  powerfully  influ- 
ential with  the  public  men  of  Texas. 
His  commanding  person,  his  ^vell- 
known  ability  as  a  man  of  affairs,  his 
public  spirit,  and  the  aggressive  ener- 
gy exhibited  by  him  in  all  that  he  un- 
dertook, impressed  the  leaders  and 
representatives  of  public  opinion, 
and  gave  him  immense  power  for 
good.  "  No  man,"  says  his  memoir, 
151 


IRobert  2lIeianDer» 


"  has  done  more  for  the  cause  of 
Christ  and  public  virtue  in  Texas 
than  Dr.  Alexander."  This  is  the 
simple  truth,  and  how  much  it 
means  !  For  a  coward,  who  feared 
the  face  of  man,  or  a  trimmer  who 
diluted  the  gospel  or  compromised 
with  sin  in  high  places  or  worldli- 
ness  in  the  Church,  the  hardy,  fear- 
less Texans  had  no  respect.  Dr. 
Alexander  knew  all  Texas,  if  any 
man  did.  Through  him  every 
Christian  communion  in  the  State 
had  been  replenished  in  its  numbers 
and  strengthened  in  its  spiritual  life. 
"He  left  the  impress  of  his  charac- 
ter upon  every  Methodist  institution 
in  Texas,"  was  well  said  of  him 
after  his  death.  His  character — 
that  was  the  secret  of  his  solid  and 
abiding  influence. 

He  was  agent  for  our  denomina- 
tional schools  in  Texas  at  a  time 
■when  such  service  meant  hard  toil, 
little  thanks,  and  small  results. 
Long  journeys  among  a  scattered 
152 


"Kobcrt  BleianOer. 


population,  indifference  with  many, 
poverty  in  one  place,  stinginess  or 
ignorance  in  another,  with  here  and 
there  a  man  or  ^voman  with  sense 
enough  to  see  the  need  and  money 
enough  to  give  something  for  Chris- 
tian education — this  was  the  work 
as  he  found  it.  The  history  of 
Methodist  schools  in  Texas,  like 
that  of  other  Conferences,  is  a  his- 
tory of  hard  struggles,  partial  suc- 
cesses, and  many  mishaps.  To  go 
over  this  history  in  detail  would  be 
poor  reading  ;  it  would  be  like  walk- 
ing through  a  graveyard.  Five  in- 
stitutions of  learning  were  at  time& 
started  in  Texas,  each  bearing  the 
name  of  one  of  our  bishops — Soule 
University,  Andrew  Female  Col- 
lege, Marvin  College,  Paine  Female 
Institute,  and  Parker  Institute. 
These  beloved  chief  pastors  them- 
selves are  not  deader  than  these 
institutions  that  bore  their  honored 
names ;  but,  like  them,  their  influ- 
ence survives  and  links  itself  to  liv- 

153 


IRobert  BleianOer* 

ing  forces  that  will  never  perish 
from  the  earth.  Dr.  Alexander  had 
his  full  share  of  travail  of  soul  at 
the  birth  of  these  educational  in- 
fants, and  was  one  of  the  chief 
mourners  when  they  died.  The 
Texas  Methodists,  like  others,  at- 
tempted too  much :  they  "  over- 
cropped "  in  this  matter  of  starting 
schools,  as  nearly  every  other  An- 
nual Conference  in  our  Church  has 
done,  with  the  same  disastrous  and 
inevitable  results.  Like  the  rest  of 
their  brethren,  they  have  learned 
wisdom  from  experience,  and  are 
now  pursuing  an  educational  policy 
of  unification  and  friendly  correla- 
tion, and  are  doing  better  work  than 
ever  before. 

Dr.  Alexander  also  had  his  full 
share  of  the  labor  and  anxiety  at 
tendant  upon  the  maintenance  of  t. 
Methodist  newspaper  press  in  Texas. 
What  a  history  is  here !  Beginning 
with  R.  B.  Wells  in  1847,  and  com- 
ing down  to  T.  R.  Pierce  in  1896, 

154 


IRobert  BleianDer. 


only  one  year  is  lacking  to  make  it 
half  a  century  since  this  struggle  be- 
gan. In  1849  Dr,  Alexander  with  Dr. 
H.  S.  Thrall,  by  authority  of  the  Tex- 
as Conference,  contracted  for  the 
publication  of  a  \veekly  paper,  to  be 
called  the  Texas  Wesley  an  Banner^ 
in  the  city  of  Houston  for  one  year. 
The  paper  was  popular,  but  the  re- 
ceipts did  not  pay  its  expenses — the 
old  story.  The  publishers  had  to 
make  good  the  deficiency  ;  the  edi- 
tor got  the  "  glory,"  Dr.  Alexander 
did  not  like  to  write,  and  his  breth- 
ren did  not  expect  that  he  would ; 
but  they  did  expect  that  he  would 
lubricate  the  wheels  of  the  print- 
ing press  with  the  fiscal  oil  that 
would  keep  them  going,  and  he  did 
it.  When  his  name  was  connected 
with  a  Church  enterprise  of  any 
sort  the  people  looked  for  an  admin- 
istration honest,  sensible,  and  ener- 
getic, and  a  veracious  report  of  what 
was  done.  They  trusted  him  with- 
out reserve,  and  he  never  betrayed 

155 


IRobert  2lleian&er. 


their  confidence.  The  Southwest- 
ern University  and  its  correlated 
schools  and  the  Texas  Christian 
A.dvocate  are  now  on  a  solid  basis, 
and  doing  excellent  work  for  Chris- 
tian education  and  Christian  litera- 
ture in  Texas.  When  the  names  of 
their  benefactors  are  placed  upon 
the  roll  of  honor  by  Texas  Metho- 
dists that  of  Robert  Alexander  will 
be  found  near  the  head  of  the  list. 
He  was  one  of  the  first  in  the  work, 
and  kept  at  it  to  the  last. 

Doubtless  the  four  years  of  his 
superannuation  were  the  hardest  of 
all  to  him.  Holy  men  who  have  no 
fear  of  death  have  dreaded  this  or- 
deal. The  disciplinary  phrase  is : 
"  Worn  out  in  the  work.''''  Worn 
out !  It  is  the  badge  of  knighthood. 
Dr.  Alexander  was  literally  worn 
out  in  the  work  of  the  Lord.  His 
last  years  were  marked  not  only  by 
failing  strength,  but  by  intense  phys- 
ical suffering.  Again  and  again  he 
came  under  the  surgeon's  knife,  en- 

156 


IRobert  HleianDer. 


during,  as  one  has  said,  what  would 
have  killed  several  men  of  ordinary 
•constitution.  This  was  the  ultimate 
trial  of  his  faith,  and  may  we  not 
conclude  that  it  was  also  the  crown- 
ing work  of  the  Lord  in  the  devel- 
opment of  his  Christian  character? 
It  must  be  so  ;  there  is  no  other  ex- 
planation of  the  fact  that  in  this  life 
the  best  men  and  women  are  often 
the  greatest  sufferers.  The  heart 
knoweth  its  oivn  bitter7iess.  Every 
great  life  has  its  Gethsemane.  In 
the  fires  the  Lord  is  glorified  by  his 
servants.  The  greatest  and  stron- 
gest souls  suffer  in  silence.  Dr.  Al- 
exander grew  in  grace  in  the  midst 
of  his  sufferings ;  patience  had  its 
perfect  v^^ork  ;  the  sweet  flower  of  hu- 
mility bloomed  in  diviner  beauty  in 
his  trustful  soul.  While  he  lay  suf- 
fering a  friend  suggested  to  him 
that  he  ought  to  find  consolation  in 
the  reflection  that  he  had  lived  a  life 
so  long  and  so  useful.  "  Don't  say 
that,"  he  broke  in,  "  don't  say  that ! 
157 


"Kobert  Bfcian&er. 


I  have  done  so  little,  so  little  !  When 
we  have  done  all,  we  are  unprofita- 
ble servants,  having  only  done  our 
duty."  The  dying-  preacher's  hope 
was  in  the  divine  mercy  only ; 
eternal  life  was  the  gift  of  God  to> 
him  through  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 
The  end  came  at  Chappell  Hill,Tex.^ 
in  1882.  He  w^as  a  typical  Texas. 
Methodist.  He  was  the  first  regu- 
lar itinerant  preacher  in  Texas.  At 
his  death  the  number  had  grown  to 
over  500,  and  Texas  was  divided 
into  six  Annual  Conferences,  with 
800  local  preachers  and  20,00a 
Church  members.  At  the  close  of 
1895  there  were  in  these  Texas  Con- 
ferences 770  traveling  preachers^ 
1,013  local  preachers,  and  182,426 
Church  members.  They  are  still 
marching  on,  and  at  the  head  of  the 
moving  host  we  may,  in  our  mind's 
eye,  still  see  the  tall  form  of  our  first 
Missionary  to  Texas — Robert  Alex- 
ander. 

158 


JAMES  A.  DUNCAN. 

1830-1877. 


lAMES  A.  DUNCAN  was 
I  born  in  Norfolk,  Va.,  April 
vl>^  1 4,  1830.  In  his  nativity  he 
was  doubly  fortunate.  He  was 
born  in  a  good  place  of  good  stock. 
His  father,  Prof.  David  Duncan, 
was  a  sound  scholar,  a  clear,  keen 
thinker,  v\^ith  a  will  power  that  was 
forceful  and  persistent,  a  quiet,, 
strong  man,  and  a  gentleman  of  the 
old  school.  From  his  mother,  a 
sunny,  saintly  woman,  he  inherited 
the  gentler  traits  that  charmed  all 
the  circles  he  touched  with  a  spell 
that  is  still  felt  by  them.  Those 
Scotch-Irish  Duncans  have  inter- 
married and  crossed  the  stock  so 
often  that  we  can  now  find  all  sorts 
of  people  bearing  the  name,  but  it 
will  be  hard  to  find  among  them  all 

K  159 


5amc0  21.  2)uncan, 

a  single  individual  who  has  not  some- 
where in  his  composition  a  vein  of 
ore  of  uncommon  richness  or  hard- 
ness— very  good  -when  it  is  good, 
and  bad  enough  when  bad.  The 
father  of  James  A.  Duncan,  Prof. 
Duncan,  was  as  ripe  in  scholarship 
and  as  sweet  in  character  as  an  Al- 
bemarle pippin  at  Christmas  time. 
His  children's  heredity  (we  must 
use  this  overworked  word  here) 
was  good.  There  was  no  delirium 
tremens  in  their  blood  and  brain,  no 
narcotic  poison  in  their  systems,  en- 
tailing upon  them  constitutional  in- 
competency, and  foredooming  them 
to  an  almost  hopeless  struggle 
against  forces  that  handicapped  their 
lives.  Young  men,  listen :  Touch 
not,  taste  not,  handle  not  the  unclean 
thing — alcoholic  drink.  Avoid  the 
cigarette  idiocy.  By  such  indulgence 
you  not  only  hurt  yourself,  but  you 
may  also  hurt  others  whom  you 
\vould  rather  die  than  harm.  The 
next   best   thing    to   the  promise  of 

160 


5amc6  2l»  2)uncan. 

the  mercy  of  God  is  a  clean,  hope- 
ful heredity.  The  man  who  poisons 
his  own  life  in  so  doing  may  poison 
a  thousand  other  lives.  This  law 
of  heredity,  however,  is  a  gracious 
law  of  God  when  w^e  put  ourselves 
in  the  right  relation  to  it.  More  and 
more,  as  the  v^^orld  becomes  wiser 
and  better,  will  it  be  a  potent  factor 
in  working  out  the  perfection  of  hu- 
manity. All  things  work  together, 
under  the  gospel  of  Jesus  Christ,  to 
this  end,  heredity  included.  But 
heredity  cannot  supersede  that  free- 
dom of  the  will  upon  which  is  piv- 
oted the  destiny  of  every  human 
soul.  It  is  made  to  work  together 
with  all  the  laws  and  all  the  prov- 
idential dealings  of  God  for  our 
good.  And,  conversely,  it  is  just  as 
certain  in  its  operation,  being  the 
savor  of  life  tinto  Ufe^  cr  of  death 
2into  death^  in  a  sense  both  more  lit- 
eral and  more  aw^ful  than  most 
young  persons  and  many  older  ones 
have     stopped     to     consider.     The 

U  161 


James  B,  2)uncan. 

young  man  with  a  good  heredity 
may  start  downward  if  he  will ;  or, 
under  God,  he  may  begin  a  new  up- 
ward movement  for  himself  and 
those  who  shall  come  after  him. 
Therefore,  let  no  one  be  presump- 
tuous, let  no  one  despair ;  but  let 
each  and  all  watch  and  pray,  and 
choose  and  hold  fast  that  good  part 
which  can  never  be  taken  away 
from  any  sincere  soul,  but  which  a 
fool  can  throw  aw^ay.  Beside  the 
ladder,  whose  rounds  run  up  into 
heaven,  opens  the  stairway  going 
down  to  hell.  One  or  the  other  you 
take  by  choice.  Climb  the  upward 
way,  because  you  can.  Will  some 
critical  reader  say  that  the  foregoing 
remarks  are  a  digression?  Be  it 
so ;  the  words  are  true  words,  and 
some  young  reader  may  get  good 
by  them. 

And  Norfolk  was  a  good  place  in 
which  to  be  born  in  1830,  as  it  would 
be  in  this  year  1896.  But  this  was 
more  than  would  have  been  said  at 

162 


James  B.  Duncan, 

an  earlier  time,  before  Methodism 
and  other  agencies  had  wrought  a 
beneficent  transformation. 

Norfolk  had  much  labor  bestowed 
upon  it  before  it  took  the  rank  it  has  long 
held  as  a  moral  city.  Asburj  found 
there  a  hard  place,  as  had  Pilmoor  and 
Williams  and  Watters  and  Wright  and 
King  before  him.  Pilmoor,  passing 
through  Portsmouth  on  his  return  from 
the  South,  came  upon  two  men  at  the 
ferrj  swearing  horribly.  He  raised  his 
hands,  and  exclaimed:  'Well,  if  I  had 
been  brought  to  this  place  blindfolded,  1 
should  have  known  I  was  near  Norfolk!' 
His  preaching  excited  the  opposition  of 
the  easy-going  parish  clergy  of  the  city, 
and  during  his  absence  the  parson  at- 
tempted to  turn  the  tide  of  feeling  aga.inst 
the  Methodists  by  preaching  on  "i?e  not 
righteous  overmuch!'''  He  assured  the  peo- 
ple that  he  knew  from  experience  the 
evil  of  being  overrighteous.  To  his  sur- 
prise, and  that  of  his  friends,  Pilmoor  re- 
turned a  few  days  after,  and  gave  notice 
that  he  would  preach  on  the  verse  next 
following  the  parson's  text:  ^^Be  not  over- 
much -wickedP  The  people  crowded  to 
the  preaching  place.  Having  read  the 
text,  he  said  that  he  had  been  informed 
163 


S^ames  B.  H)uncan. 

that  a  certain  divine  of  that  town  had 
given  them  a  solemn  caution  against  be- 
ing righteous  overmuch.  Then,  lifting 
his  hands,  and  with  a  very  significant 
countenance,  he  exclaimed :  "And  in  Nor- 
folk he  hath  given  this  caution!"  (Mc- 
Tyeire's  "  History  of  Methodism,"  pp.  296, 
297-) 

That  was  the  sort  of  Methodist 
preachers  and  style  of  preaching 
that  had  wrought  the  gracious 
change  in  Norfolk. 

The  Methodism  in  Norfolk  to- 
day, opulent  in  all  the  elements  of 
denominational  strength,  is  built 
upon  the  foundations  laid  by  these 
men  of  God  who  had  wrestled  with 
sin  and  doubt,  and  prevailed ;  who 
had  cut  loose  from  sin  and  worldli- 
ness  ;  who,  borne  on  the  rising  tide 
of  the  great  Wesleyan  revival, 
were  sweeping  forward  with  irresti- 
ble  energy  and  enthusiasm  to  the 
conquest  of  the  continent. 

When  he  was  still  a  lad  young 
Duncan's  father  was  called  to  take 
the   professorship  of   Ancient  Lan- 

1*  164 


S^ames  B,  Duncan. 

guages  in  Randolph-Macon  College, 
then  located  at  Boydton,  Mecklen- 
burg County,  Va.  This  was  truly 
old  Virginia,  with  its  most  distinc- 
tive peculiarities.  The  boy  had  the 
freedom,  fresh  air,  and  boyish  sports 
of  country  life,  in  the  midst  of  a 
rural  population  not  excelled  for  do- 
mestic virtues  and  a  refinement 
which,  though  not  highly  varnished 
on  the  surface,  was  of  finest  grain. 
Their  ideals  were  lofty  and  their  re- 
spectability solid.  The  boy  was  a 
general  favorite — modest,  well-man- 
nered, witty,  handsome  in  per- 
son and  graceful  in  bearing,  and' 
withal  notably  kind  and  generous 
in  his  disposition.  That  he  was 
plucky,  as  well  as  sinewy  and  quick 
of  motion,  was  never  doubted  by 
any  boy  of  his  age  and  size  w^ho 
put  him  to  the  test.  He  was  stout- 
hearted, clean-limbed,  full-chested, 
"  quick  as  a  flash,"  to  use  a  boy's 
phrase.  In  his  composition  there 
were    energy,    aggressiveness,    and 

165 


S^ames  B.  2)uncan. 

as  much  combativeness  as  any  civ- 
ilized boy  ought  to  possess.  He 
had  another  rich  but  perilous  gift, 
the  gift  of  mimicry.  It  is  a  bless- 
ing or  a  curse,  according  as  it  is 
used  or  abused.  It  is  the  orator's 
gift,  and  it  is  the  buffoon's  gift.  Its 
possessor  may  be  a  brilliant  orator, 
or  he  may  be  the  hero  of  a  bar- 
room crowd,  or  the  "  star"  of  a  ne- 
gro minstrel  show.  It  may  lend 
harmless  delight  to  the  social  circle 
and  impart  a  special  charm  to  pub- 
lic speech,  or  it  may  be  the  weap- 
on of  envy  and  malice.  In  this 
case,  as  in  all  others,  peril  was 
proportioned  to  endowment.  This 
boy,  Jimmy  Duncan,  had  to  make 
the  fight  which  is  to  be  made  by 
every  young  person  who  may  read 
this  page  :  Whether  he  has  been  in- 
trusted with  one  talent  or  -v^ath  ten, 
he  must  make  the  same  fight. 
Whether  he  shall  w^in  or  lose,  de- 
pends upon  his  o-wn  choice. 

It  was  a  good  omen  for  the  boy 

166 


Barnes  B,  Duncan. 

and  for  the  Church  he  was  to  serve 
that  among  his  teachers  at  Randolph- 
Macon  College  were  Stephen  Olin, 
Landon  C.  Garland,  and  William  A. 
Smith — this  page  almost  seems  to  be- 
come luminous  as  these  names  are 
placed  upon  it.  Olin,  Garland,  Smith 
— a  trio  of  men  differing  widely  in 
their  special  gifts,  but  all  notable  for 
intellectual  power,  symmetrical  char- 
acter, and,  above  all,  the  religious 
fervor  that  is  essential  to  the  ef- 
ficiency of  a  teacher  in  a  Christian 
school. 

Scholarship,  professional  skill, 
and  pedagogical  enthusiasm  are  not 
to  be  despised  or  undervalued,  but 
these  qualifications  may  be  found 
elsewhere.  If  that  other  and  su- 
premest  qualification  were  lacking 
in  their  teachers,  our  Church  schools 
would  be  a  superfluous  tax  upon  the 
resources  of  the  Church.  These 
three  men  and  their  colaborers  in 
their  day  touched  the  men  who  have 
touched  the  Church  with  their  pow- 

167 


3^ames  "B.  Duncan, 

er  during  two  generations.  Their 
paths  are  traceable  in  lines  of  light 
from  Virginia  to  California.  Ran- 
dolph-Macon College  is  the  mother 
of  our  Southern  Methodist  schools. 
Virginia  and  North  Carolina  were 
united  in  the  movement  that  found- 
ed it,  and  the  chapters  of  our  de- 
nominational history  that  record  its 
early  struggles  and  successes  are 
the  heritage  of  both  alike.  The 
cost  of  the  college  has  not  been 
small,  but  it  has  already  repaid  a 
hundredfold  to  the  Church.  And 
it  goes  on  compounding  still. 
Among  the  men  that  Randolph- 
Macon  has  given  to  the  Church 
three  names  occur  to  us  here  :  two^ 
of  them  are  Duncan  and  McTyeire, 
who  have  done  their  w^ork  and" 
gone  home  to  God ;  the  name  of^ 
the  third  will  be  added  when  the 
modest  and  consecrated  servant  of 
the  Church  who  bears  it  shall 
have  done  his  work  and  gone  home 
also. 

168 


3^ames  a,  2)uncan, 

Young  Duncan  was  converted  in 
the  college  in  1847.  It  is  a  blessed 
fact  that  year  after  year  the  insti- 
tution was  blessed  with  these  spe- 
cially gracious  seasons.  It  was  a 
genuine  conversion,  described  in  a 
memoir  lying  before  us  in  the  dec- 
laration that  "he  sought  and  found 
peace  in  Jesus."  This  language 
implies  that  the  handsome,  gifted 
youth,  overflowing  with  humor  and 
gayety,  the  favorite  of  his  associates, 
and  the  life  of  every  circle  that  he- 
touched,  was  truly  born  into  the 
new^  life  after  the  scriptural  pattern. 
Mark  the  words  :  "  He  sought  and 
found  peace  in  Jesus."  There  is  a 
heart  throb  and  a  history  in  every- 
syllable  for  the  initiated — a  history 
of  his  unrest  and  soul  hunger ;  his 
sense  of  sin,  and  his  longing  for  de- 
liverance ;  and  then  his  surrender 
and  choice  of  his  will,  followed  by 
the  pardon  and  the  peace  that  flood- 
ed his  soul  with  unutterable  bless- 
edness.    It  was  a  clear  and  happy 

169 


James  B,  2)uncan. 

conversion,  a  luminous  point  in  his 
experience,  to  which  he  ever  after- 
wards reverted  w^ith  grateful  joy. 
In  one  of  his  very  latest  sermons  he 
described  with  deep  feeling  this  ex- 
perience, affirming  that  the  vow^  of 
-consecration  then  made  had  been 
the  controlling  principle  of  his  min- 
istry, and  the  motive  of  those  la- 
bors which  his  brethren  sometimes 
thought  excessive.      ("  Memoir.") 

With  this  beginning  young  Dun- 
can w^ent  forvs^ard  in  a  ministerial 
career  that  was  remarkably  free 
from  the  reactions,  lapses,  and 
gloom  that  so  often  mark  the  ear- 
lier stages  of  Christian  lives.  His 
consecration  v^as  thorough  at  the 
start.  He  had,  w^ith  purpose  of 
heart,  renounced  the  world,  the 
flesh,  and  the  devil.  He  had  heard 
and  heeded  the  Master's  saying  to 
the  young  man  who  hesitated  and 
pleaded  for  delay  when  called  to  fol- 
low him  :  "  No  man,  having  put  his 
hand  to  the  plow,  and  looking  back, 

170 


3^ames  B.  Buncan, 

is  fit  for  the  kingdom  of  God." 
(Luke  ix.  62.)  Young  Duncan  did 
not  go  back,  because  he  did  not  look 
back.  These  reactions,  lapses,  bait- 
ings, though  they  so  often  cripple 
the  lives  of  young  Christians,  are 
not  necessary ;  the  grace  and  wis- 
dom that  uphold  and  guide  a  fol- 
lower of  Jesus  one  day  will  suffice 
for  every  day  of  the  longest  life. 
Christians  walk  by  faith.  They 
may  not  loiter,  dawdle,  dream,  or 
trifle,  nor  look  back,  nor  turn  back, 
but  walk — walk  right  on,  straight 
forward.  To  all  such  is  given  the 
promise  that  they  shall  walk  surely, 
they  shall  walk  and  not  faint, 
they  shall  run  and  not  be  weary ; 
and,  mounting  on  wings  as  eagles, 
they  shall  at  last  fly  and  take  the 
prize.  The  power,  the  joy,  the 
glory  of  such  a  life  who  can  meas- 
ure? Christianity  is  a  glorious  re- 
ligion for  the  elect  souls  who  test  it 
for  all  it  is  worth.  The  elect  are 
whosoever  will.  (Rev.  xxii.  17.) 
171 


S^ames  %,  Duncan, 

The  next  year  young  Duncan 
was  licensed  to  preach.  This  looks 
like  quick  work.  He  was  only 
eighteen  years  old — a  smooth-faced, 
slender  youth,  boyish  in  appearance. 
Our  Methodist  polity  wisely  and 
carefully  guards  the  gate  of  entrance 
upon  the  sacred  and  weighty  func- 
tions of  the  Christian  ministry.  Pro- 
vision is  made  for  testing  the  gifts  and 
grace  of  such  as  profess  to  be  called 
to  this  work.  But  it  has  happened 
that  partiality  or  haste  has  resulted 
in  "  calling  "  a  young  man  to  preach 
whom  the  Lord  has  not  called,  and 
then  and  there  is  trouble  for  all  con- 
cerned. The  Scriptures  give  w^arn- 
ing  against  thus  suddenly  laying 
hands  on  men  "who  are  to  minister 
in  sacred  things.  The  wisdom  of 
this  admonition  has  been  impressed 
upon  the  minds  of  many  who  have 
had  to  deal  with  this  important 
question.  But  it  was  not  a  prema- 
ture call  for  Duncan,  young  as  he 
was.     All  his  life  had  been  a  course 

1<*  172 


3^ames  B.  2)uncan. 

of  providential  preparation  for  this 
work.  The  voice  of  the  Church 
seconded  the  voice  of  God  that 
spoke  directly  to  his  soul.  The 
Quarterly  Conference  ratified  the 
divine  will  in  granting  him  license 
to  preach. 

The  youthful  licentiate  went  to 
work  \vith  all  his  might,  magnify- 
ing his  office.  Thirty  years  after- 
wards the  people  of  Mecklenburg 
still  spoke  of  his  first  sermons 
among  them,  "in  which  they  saw 
the  prophecy  of  his  future  great- 
ness," says  a  biographer.  Besides 
pleasing  manners,  his  natural  gifts 
as  an  orator,  and  his  exceptional  ad- 
vantages in  other  particulars,  he 
had  that  highest  of  all  gifts  for  the 
preaching  of  the  gospel — the  unc- 
tion of  the  Holy  Spirit — a  quality 
always  gladly  recognized  by  the 
spiritually  minded,  and  the  absence 
of  which  is  always  felt  by  them, 
even  when  they  might  not  be  able 
to  define  it. 

173 


3^amcs  B.  Buncanv 

Immediately  after  his  graduation-, 
in  1849,  he  was  placed  in  charge  of 
a  society  in  Alexandria,  Va.,  which 
had  been  organized  in  connection 
with  the  Methodist  Episcopal 
Church,  South.  During  the  few 
months  before  the  session  of  the- 
Virginia  Conference  a  great  reviv- 
al blessed  his  labors  at  Alexandria.. 
That  was  a  good  beginning  for 
him.  That  revival  in  Alexandria 
was  the  seal  put  upon  his  commis- 
sion by  his  Lord,  and  the  pledge  of 
what  was  to  come  afterwards  in  a 
ministry  singularly  faithful  and 
fruitful  in  the  salvation  of  souls.. 

The  next  year  (1850)  he  was  ad- 
mitted into  the  Virginia  Conference. 
He  at  once  took  a  high  rank  as  a 
preacher  in  that  body,  in  wrhich  were 
found  such  men  as  John  Early,  in 
discipline  as  strict  as  the  commander 
of  a  Roman  legion,  and  as  unflinch- 
ing in  courage  and  as  inflexible  in 
purpose,  a  heroic  saint,  or  a  saintly 
hero,  as  you  prefer  to  have  it ;  John 

174 


3^ames  "B,  Duncan. 

E.  Edwards,  whose  rhetoric  was  a 
sort  of  celestial  fireworks,  whose 
declamation  was  like  musical  thun- 
der, whose  sermons  were  suffused 
with  the  glow  caught  from  com- 
munion with  God,  who  by  the  mag- 
ic of  his  oratory  took  his  hearers 
captive  and  led  them  to  Christ,  who 
w^as  perhaps  the  most  rapid  speaker 
that  ever  stood  in  a  Virginia  pulpit 
and  one  of  the  most  brilliant,  as  he 
was  certainly  one  of  the  most  con- 
secrated ;  John  W.  Childs,  whose 
self-denial  bordered  on  asceticism, 
w^hose  zeal  grazed  the  edge  of  fa- 
naticism, whose  spirituality  was  al- 
most unearthly,  whose  prayers 
brovight  heaven  and  earth  almost 
into  visible  touch,  whose  very  pres- 
ence inspired  awe  as  that  of  a  man 
who  walked  with  God,  his  face 
shining  as  did  that  of  Moses  on 
coming  from  the  mount ;  Leonidas 
Rosser,  who  was  to  the  Church 
what  Jeb  Stuart  was  to  the  army,  a 
cavalier  whose  dash  was  brilliant 
L  ^75 


James  B.  2)uncan, 

and  almost  resistless,  gifted,  popu- 
lar ;  Alexander  H.  Doniphan,  who 
glo^ved  with  an  ardor  almost  seraph- 
ic, who  sang  as  if  his  whole  soul 
was  set  to  music  -with  his  voice  of 
marvelous  sweetness,  and  prayed  as 
one  who  talked  with  God  and  felt  his 
touch — and  others  not  less  worthy 
who  yet  live  or  have  due  mention  else- 
where. Duncan  took  his  proper  place 
in  the  ranks  with  these  men,  and  kept 
step  with  them  for  thirty  years.  In 
Fairfax,  Leesburg,  Alexandria,  and 
Washington  he  labored  earnestly 
and  successfully  nine  years,  all  the 
while  growing  in  pulpit  power  and 
pastoral  efficiency.  He  was  stu- 
dious and  energetic,  doing  all  the 
work  of  a  pastor,  true  to  the  letter 
and  spirit  of  the  solemn  vows  that 
he  had  assumed.  The  fruit  of  his 
ministry  was  abundant  and  abiding. 
The  love  of  the  people  for  him  was 
enthusiastic. 

In     1S47     he    was    appointed    to 
Trinity  Church,  Richmond,  and  on 

!':<**  176 


James  21,  Duncan. 

that  broader  and  more  conspicuous 
field  of  service  he  quickly  won 
rapid  success  and  wider  fame. 

Richmond  was  taken  captive  by 
him.  His  eloquence  in  the  pulpit, 
and  the  charm  of  his  social  gifts, 
excited  general  admiration.  He 
preached  to  young  men  and  wom- 
en a  series  of  sermons  that  at- 
tracted crowded  congregations,  and 
produced  effects  that  v\^ere  exten- 
sive and  permanent.  He  took  a 
front  rank  with  the  best  preachers 
of  the  city,  noted  then,  as  now,  for 
their  ability.  All  classes  of  people 
flocked  to  hear  him.  Mem-bers  of 
other  denominations  heard  him  with 
delight,  and  took  him  close  to  their 
hearts.  Under  his  leadership,  and 
chiefly  by  his  efforts,  a  beautiful 
and  spacious  church  was  built  on 
Broad  Street  near  the  Capitol 
Square,  which  yet  stands  as  a  mon- 
ument of  his  zeal  and  efficiency. 
From  1859  to  1866,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  two  years,  he  continued  in 
12  177 


James  B.  2)uncan, 

pastoral  charge  of    this  church,  his 
influence    deepening    and   widening 
all  the  time.     When  Richmond  be- 
came the  capital  of  the  Confederate 
States  of  America,  and  -was  crowd- 
ed   with    representatives     from     all 
parts   of    the    South,   his  pulpit  be- 
came the  center  of  attraction.      To 
the  multitude  that  came  to  hear  him 
he  preached  with  a  brilliancy  of  pul- 
pit  oratory,   and   at   the   same   time 
with  an  evangelical  power  and  pim- 
gency   that   made  his  ixiinistry  both 
popular  and  savingly  efficacious  in  a 
remarkable  degree.     From   i860  to 
to  1 866  he  also  edited  the  Richmond 
Christian  Advocate^  the  larger  part 
of    the    time    doing    this    laborious 
work   gratuitously,   and   doing  it  so 
well   that  his  editorial  service  com- 
pares not  unfavorably  with  that  of 
other    strong    and    brilliant    editors 
who  have  sat  upon  its  tripod.     The 
extraordinai-y    fertility   of  his  intel- 
lect,   and  his  prodigious  power  and 
endurance  as  a  worker  were  demon- 

178 


5ames  B,  Duncan. 

strated  during  these  years  when, 
more  than  any  other  man  in  Vir- 
ginia, he  influenced  its  moral  life. 
He  was  the  unspoiled  idol  of  the 
people.  The  high  and  the  low 
alike  gave  him  their  hearts.  Like 
other  truly  great  men,  his  greatest 
achievements  did  not  exhaust  the 
full  measure  of  his  power.  When 
he  soared  highest  his  wing  was 
steady. 

After  spending  the  days  and 
nights  of  the  week  in  camp  w'th 
"  the  boys "  in  the  army,  on  Sun- 
day he  wouki  go  back  to  his  pul- 
pit in  Richmond,  and  preach  ser- 
mons that  excited  the  admiration  of 
the  ablest  men  \vho  were  there  gatli- 
ered  as  the  master  spirits  of  that 
mighty  struggle.  The  two  years  of 
his  pastorate  in  Petersburg  were 
marlvcd  by  the  same  pulpit  power 
and  pastoral  fidelity  that  character- 
ized him  in  other  charges,  and  simi- 
lar gracious  results  followed. 

After  the  war   Randolph- Macon 

179 


James  B.  3)uncan, 

College  was  reopened  and  began  a 
feeble  struggle  for  life  in  that  time 
of  impoverishment,  depression,  and 
discouragement.  It  was  removed 
from  Boydton  to  Ashland,  and  Dr. 
Duncan  was  unanimously  chosen 
President.  Of  his  work  in  this  con- 
nection we  will  let  one  speak  who 
had  an  intimate  acquaintance  with 
him  and  with  the  facts  In  the  case  : 

He  signified  promptly  a  disposition  to- 
accept  the  responsible  post,  but  de- 
manded a  few  days  in  which  to  carry  the 
question  in  private  prayer  to  the  God 
whom  he  served  and  to  whom  he  be- 
longed. Repeatedly  and  emphatically 
he  declared  the  singleness  of  purpose 
with  which  he  entered  on  this  office,, 
and  that  he  would  not  remain  one  day 
in  it  if  it  were  not  for  the  conviction 
that  he  was  thereby  serving  most  effi- 
ciently the  Church  of  Christ.  No  one 
who  knew  the  man  doubted  his  sin- 
cerity and  simplicity  of  aim.  He  never 
sought  self.  He  was  indifferent  to  wealth 
in  a  degree  which  some  even  censured 
as  extreme.  He  served  not  ambition. 
The  esteem  and  approval  of  good  men 
he  must  have  prized;  but  never,  so  far  as 
180 


James  B,  2>uncan. 

■we  know,  did  he  exhibit  any  undue  con- 
cern about  such  things.  He  belonged  to 
Christ,  and  to  the  Church  for  Christ's 
sake.  He  went  in  the  courage  of  faith 
and  the  spirit  of  consecration  to  the  col- 
lege, and  devoted  himself  to  the  duties  in 
the  chair  of  Moral  Philosophy  and  in  the 
presidency.  The  halls  were  filled  with  a 
larger  number  of  students  than  had  ever 
sought  its  advantages  in  its  palmiest 
days  before  the  war.  He  governed  by 
his  personal  influence,  by  the  love  and 
confidence  with  which  he  inspired  the 
young  men;  and  diligence  and  good  be- 
havior were  the  rule,  with  rare  excep- 
tions. The  reputation  of  the  institution 
for  a  high  grade  of  scholarship  and  thor- 
oughness of  culture  was  inferior  to  that 
of  no  college  in  the  land.  Young 
preachers,  often  numbering  more  than 
forty  in  a  single  session,  sat  under  his 
special  lectures  in  theology,  and  were 
molded  by  his  example  and  his  teaching. 
With  the  authority  of  a  prophet,  with  the 
gentleness  of  a  father,  he  preached  to  the 
students  week  after  week  the  word  of 
life,  and  saw  many  of  them  accept  with 
glad  hearts  the  yoke  and  burden  of  Christ. 
In  private  they  revealed  to  him  all  that 
was  in  their  hearts,  and  sought  his  sym- 
pathy and  counsel.  In  public,  whatever 
181 


James  B,  Duncan. 

the  occasion  on  which  he  spoke,  they 
hung  breathless  on  his  lips,  and  received 
what  he  said  as  from  an  angel  of  God. 
Those  who  have  attended  the  Commence- 
ments can  bear  witness  to  the  outgushing 
of  love,  the  wise  and  noble  utterances, 
the  manly  frankness  and  boldness,  and 
the  tenderness,  almost  motherly,  with 
which  he  bade  those  young  men  farewell 
in  unstudied  words  of  genuine  elo- 
quence; and  the  beaming  faces,  the 
streaming  eyes,  and  the  thunders  of  ap- 
plause with  which  they  responded.  Nor 
were  these  his  only  labors.  Often  during 
the  session  he  hurried  off  to  preach  in 
city  or  in  country  at  the  call  of  the 
churches  of  the  Virginia  and  Baltimore 
Conferences,  or  in  order  to  raise  money 
for  the  college.  The  summer  vacation 
was  no  rest  to  him,  but  his  busiest  period. 
Incessantly  he  traveled  through  the  two 
Conferences,  speaking  on  Christian  edvi- 
cation,  and  speaking  at  District  Confer- 
ences, at  protracted  and  camp  meetings. 
He  was  in  labor  more  abundant,  not  spar- 
ing himself;  never  reluctant  to  help  in 
anv  good  work.  Everywhere  he  was 
sought,  everywhere  he  was  welcome. 
Thousands  ascribe  to  him,  under  God, 
their  first  impulse  to  serve  Christ,  their 
revival  from  a  lukewarm  and  languishing 
182 


S^ames  B,  2)uncan. 

state,  or  their  fuller  consecration  and 
seeking  of  a  higher  Christian  life.  We 
may  safel}'  affirm  that  no  man  of  his  own 
generation  has  so  powerfully  impressed 
the  religious  character  of  an  equal  num- 
ber within  the  bounds  of  these  two  Con- 
ferences as  James  A.  Duncan. 

He  was  elected  to  the  General 
Conferences  of  1866,  1870,  and  1874. 
It  is  a  characteristic  fact  in  his 
history  that  he  did  not  attend  the 
session  of  1870,  his  duties  at  the 
college  not  allowing  his  absence, 
as  it  seemed  to  him.  At  that  ses- 
sion he  lacked  only  a  very  few  votes 
of  being  elected  a  bishop,  several 
delegates  withholding  their  votes 
from  him  because  they  were  con- 
vinced that  he  could  not  then  be 
spared  from  the  service  of  the  col- 
lege. From  that  time  the  eyes  of  the 
Avhole  Chtu'ch  were  turned  toward 
him  as  a  fit  person  for  the  episco- 
pacy. Had  he  lived  and  been  elected 
to  the  office,  he  would  have  filled  it 
with  as  much  honor  to  himself  and 
advantage  to  the  Church  as  an^^  man 

183 


Jamee  B.  Duncan, 

who  has  been  called  to  discharge  its- 
functions.  But  it  would  have  added 
nothing  to  his  fame,  save  in  the  fact 
that  it  would  have  furnished  an- 
other illustration  of  the  wonderful 
versatility  of  his  genius ;  of  a  man 
who  was  always  equal  to  any  emer- 
gency and  could  do  any  work  com- 
mitted to  him,  and  do  it  as  if  it  were 
his  specialty. 

In  1876  he  was  one  of  the  three 
Fraternal  Delegates  from  our  Gen- 
eral Conference  to  the  General  Con- 
ference of  the  Methodist  Episcopal 
Church.  His  definition  of  frater- 
nity on  that  occasion  was  so  admi- 
rable in  form  and  spirit  that  from, 
the  hour  of  its  delivery  there  has 
been  throughout  both  of  these 
Metliodist  bodies  a  clearer  conception 
of  its  meaning  and  a  higher  appre- 
ciation of  its  value.  His  exordium 
was  in  these  words  : 

As  I  stand  in  your  presence  to-day  a 
solemn  joy  in  my  heart  takes  precedence 
of  all  other  emotions.     The  responsibility 
184 


3^ame0  B,  Duncan. 

of  my  mission  and  this  hour  is  solemn^ 
but  its  hope  is  an  inspiration  of  joy. 
Around  me  I  behold  the  venerable  and 
distinguished  representatives  of  a  great 
Church;  beyond  them  are  millions  of 
Methodists  in  America  and  Europe  who 
feel  deeply  concerned  in  the  issues  of 
this  hour;  beyond  them,  in  still  more  dis- 
tant circles,  stand  a  great  cloud  of  wit- 
nesses, composed  of  all  who  care  for  the 
peace,  the  unity,  and  the  prosperity  of  the 
kingdom  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ;  and, 
sir,  above  us  is  the  general  assembly'  and 
Church  of  the  Firstborn,  who  are  writtea 
in  heaven;  and  among  them,  high-seated 
in  their  radiant  places,  are  our  sainted- 
fathers;  and  over  all,  upon  that  eternal 
throne  before  which  we  all  reverently 
worship,  reigns  the  God  and  Father  of  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ,  of  whom  the  whole 
family  in  heaven  and  earth  is  named.  In- 
such  solemn  presence,  where  all  dissen- 
sions seem  p.rofanities,  where  all  tem- 
poral and  sectional  distinctions  disappear,, 
and  where  there  is  neither  Jew  nor  Greek^ 
neither  bond  nor  free,  neither  male  nor- 
female,  but  all  are  one  in  Christ  Jesus, 
through  whom  all  have  access  by  one 
Spirit  unto  the  Father,  are  no  more  stran- 
gers and  foreigners,  but  fellow-citizens. 
with  the  saints  an.d  of  the  household  of 
185 


James  B,  Duncan. 

'  God!  As  a  humble  citizen  of  that  king- 
dom and  membei'  of  that  household,  in  the 
name  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church, 
South,  and  bj  her  authority  as  a  frater- 
nal messenger,  with  brotherly  kindness 
in  my  heart  and  words  of  peace  upon  my 
lips,  I  salute  you  this  day  as  brethren  in 
Christ  Jesus  our  Lord. 

The  peroration  was  a  fitting  cli- 
max of  that  fraternal  address  w^hich 
marked  the  introduction  of  a  new 
era  in  the  history  of  Episcopal 
Methodism  in  America.  The  words 
thrill  us  as  "we  read.  What  must 
have  been  their  effect  upon  those 
who  heard  them  as  they  fell  from 
liis  lips  ? 

Brethren,  what  an  opportunity!  Well 
for  us  if  we  can  discern  the  signs  of  the 
times  to  know  the  things  which  make  for 
our  peace!  Our  glorious  land,  that 
blooms  between  the  seas,  is  a  magnificent 
field  for  Methodist  work.  I  pray  God 
that  we  may  have  wisdom  to  cultivate  it 
in  the  spirit  of  peace  and  Christian  fel- 
lowship! Shall  we  show  ourselves  wor- 
thy of  such  an  inhieritance?  From  its 
extreme  northern  border,  where  God's 
perpetual  bow  of  peace  glorifies  Niagara's 
186 


James  B.  Duncan. 

cliffs,  to  the  seagirt  soutfiern  line,  where 
God's  bounteous  gifts  make  earth  almost 
an  Eden  of  fragrance  and  beauty;  and. 
from  the  rock-bound  Atlantic,  where  the 
eastern  song  of  the  sea  begins  its  morning 
music,  away  to  the  far-off  Pacific,  where 
the  western  waters  murmur  their  even- 
ing  benediction  to  our  blessed  land  as  the 
tide  goes  out  beneath  the  setting  sun — 
everywhere  we  feel  the  inspiration  of  our 
country,  and  devoutly  pray  :  God  bless  our 
native  land!  God  give  it,  I  pray,  the  glo- 
ry of  Lebanon  and  the  excellency  of  Car- 
mel  and  Sharon;  and  may  all  the  inhab- 
itants thereof  see  the  glory  of  the  Lord 
and  the  excellency  of  our  God! 

The  effect  was  thrilling.  "  There 
■was  not  a  soul  in  the  vast  building 
that  was  not  visibly  affected,  and  for 
several  minutes  the  sensation  that  it 
produced  was  plainly  manifest," 
says  one  who  was  present.  The 
members  of  the  august  body  before 
which  he  spoke  felt  that  the  Church 
which  had  produced  and  which  had 
honored  such  a  man  must  be  rooted 
in  a  glorious  past  and  have  the 
promise  of  a  hopeful  future. 

187 


3^ames  %,  S)uncan, 

That  speech  is  bearing  fruit  at 
this  hour.  It  swept  away  the  mists 
that  had  enveloped  a  great  question 
that  vitally  affected  the  interests 
of  Christianity  in  this  nation.  It 
defined,  illustrated,  and  fortified  fra- 
ternity, and  planted  its  white  ban- 
ner on  the  ■walls  of  our  Methodist 
Zion.  There  may  it  float  as  long  as 
time  shall  last ! 

He  died  September  24,  1877.  If, 
as  was  thought  and  said  at  the  time, 
he  was  the  victim  of  overwork,  such 
a  life  was  a  costly  sacrifice  for  the 
cause  to  which  it  was  devoted.  In 
consequence  of  excessive  labors  and 
malarial  exposure  in  the  summer  of 
1 8 74  he  had  a  fever  which  took  a 
typhoid  phase,  and  he  lay  for  weeks 
at  the  point  of  death.  For  one 
year  afterwards  he  was  scarcely  able 
to  do  any  work,  and  though  he  ral- 
lied and  resumed  his  labors,  the 
seeds  of  disease  were  still  in  his 
system ;  his  almost  matchless  con- 
stitution   was     shattered.     But    he 

188 


James  B,  2)uncan. 

■worked  on  with  undiminished  ardor 
with  intermittent  spells  of  severe 
sickness.  His  last  efforts  at  speak- 
ing and  preaching  were  among  the 
happiest  of  his  life,  the  sense  of 
duty  and  the  inspiration  of  his  faith 
and  love  spurring  him  on,  and  caus- 
ing him  to  forget  or  disregard  bod- 
ily suffering.  He  preached  the  ser- 
mon at  the  reopening  of  Trinity 
Church,  Baltimore,  September  9, 
though  suffering  intense  pain  at  the 
time.  On  his  return  to  his  home  at 
Ashland,  his  symptoms  became  more 
violent,  and  he  suffered  intense  pain. 
He  was  patient  and  serene,  ready 
for  what  might  come,  but  not  sus- 
pecting that  the  end  was  so  near. 
On  the  morning  of  the  24th  the  tire- 
less worker  entered  into  rest. 

The  shock  of  his  death  was  great 
throughout  the  Church  and  country. 
The  grief  of  our  people  was  min- 
gled with  a  suspicion  that  they  had 
allowed  a  willing  worker  to  be  over- 
tasked. Had  others  been  as  willing 
189 


S^amcs  B.  2)uncan, 

to  toil  and  as  ready  to  give  as  he- 
had  been,  the  great  life  had  not 
been  cut  shcrt ;  while  on  the  other 
hand,  the  object  lesson  furnished  by 
that  life  would  have  lost  somewhat, 
of  its  completeness. 

Voicing  the  feeling  of  the  Chris- 
tian public  outside  of  our  ov\^n  de- 
nomination, and  that  of  the  general 
public  as  well,  we  give  this  tribute 
by  Dr.  T.  R.  Price,  of  the  Univer- 
sity of  Virginia,  a  layman  of  an- 
other Christian  communion.  Under 
the  caption  of  "  The  Great  Preach- 
er," Dr.  Dvmcan  is  spoken  of  as  "  the 
one  man  who  knew  best  how  to  stir 
the  hearts -and  guide  the  acts  of  the 
people  for  good  at  a  time  when 
many  bad  men  were  seeking  to 
break  down  the  honesty  and  to  dull 
the  moral  sense  of  our  people." 
Then  in  the  best  English  he  pro- 
ceeds to  give  the  secret  of  his  pov\^- 
er  and  the  charm  of  his  personality  : 

With  the  calmness  of  the  deepest  sor- 
row comes,  too,  the  calmness  to  think  out 
190 


James  B.  2)uncan, 

the  secret  of  the  dead  man's  power  over 
the  great  masses  of  the  Southern  peo- 
ple; for  that  power  was  one  that  reached 
far  outside  of  his  Church  and  all  Church- 
es deep  down  into  the  moral  life  of  Vir- 
ginia. Thus,  even  for  us  laymen,  for  us 
that  have  no  right  to  preach  and  no  the- 
ology to  teach,  the  character  of  this  won- 
derful man  has  an  abiding  interest.  It  is 
■worth  while  for  us  all  to  know  what 
were  the  means  by  which  he  worked. 
As  his  life  did  such  immense  good  to  so 
manj^  thousands  of  our  people,  the  con- 
templation and,  if  possible,  the  under- 
standing of  that  life  can  hardly  fail  to 
do  good  to  the  great  communities  that 
are  now  mourning  for  him. 

On  the  first  meeting  with  Dr.  Duncan, 
were  it  only  a  hurried  talk  at  a  street  cor- 
ner or  a  few  minutes'  conversation  on  a 
railway  train,  the  first  impression  that 
came  to  the  stranger  was  the  sense  of  a 
strange  and  overpowering  love  and  lova- 
bleness  in  the  man.  The  face  and  voice 
stole  their  way  to  the  heart,  and  mastered 
the  affections.  All  the  children  were 
drawn  to  his  caressing  hands  by  a  charm 
that  their  little  hearts  could  not  withstand. 
The  negro  servants  in  the  houses  that  he 
visited  could  be  seen  to  hang  upon  his 
words,  and  to  strive  to  catch  his  smile. 
M  191 


James  :a.  Duncan, 

The  belle  of  the  springs  on  her  waj  to 
the  ballroom,  the  roughest  mountaineer 
loafing  on  the  outskirts  of  a  camp  meet- 
ing, boys  and  old  men,  the  ignorant  and 
the  educated,  had  to  yield  themselves  to 
the  fascination  of  the  fresh  and  guileless 
love  that  emanated  from  his  beaming 
eyes  and  tender,  penetrating  voice. 
Whether  he  were  moving  with  his  ex- 
quisite grace,  smiling  and  talking, 
through  a  parlor,  or  standing  all  aglow 
in  his  passionate  eloquence  beside  his 
pulpit;  whether  he  spoke  to  one  man, 
soul  to  soul,  in  the  quiet  of  his  study,  or 
faced  the  thousands  of  eyes  that  looked 
up  to  him  from  a  great  city  church,  or 
from  the  green  hillsides  of  a  rustic  am- 
phitheater, the  power  that  Avent  forth 
from  hiin,  winning  all  hearts  and  soften- 
ing all  hardness,  was  the  power  of  an  ex- 
quisitely lovable  nature,  giving  love  rich- 
ly and  pleading  for  love  in  return. 

But  as  3'ou  listened  to  him,  as  you 
watched  the  play  of  his  mobile  features, 
and  took  in  the  rich,  sweet  tones  of  his 
voice,  the  first  impression  of  tlie  man's 
intense  lovableness  was  deepened  hy  the 
impression  of  his  marvelous  intellectual 
power.  The  shrewdness  of  his  observa- 
tion, the  penetrating  keenness  of  his  in- 
telligence, the  splendid  precision  of  his 
192 


S^ames  Zl»  2>uncan. 

thought  and  of  his  utterance,  took  instan- 
taneous possession  of  the  hearer's  mind. 
His  knowledge  of  human  character  as 
men  moved  before  him,  his  ready  in- 
sight into  the  tangled  web  of  human  mo- 
tives, were  almost  infallible.  In  spite 
•of  his  boundless  charity  aud  gracious- 
ness,  he  Avas  a  man  that  could  not  be  de- 
ceived or  cheated.  He  took  men  in  at  a 
glance.  The  smile  that  curled  around 
his  lips,  the  light  that  sparkled  in  his 
eyes,  showed  to  the  dullest,  as  to  the 
wiliest  that  the  secrets  of  their  character 
were  seen,  that  the  very  depths  of  their 
souls  lay  unveiled  before  him.  Thus, 
when  you  talked  with  him  j'ou  were 
sure  to  feel  that,  while  his  love  opened 
his  heart  to  you,  his  intellect  opened 
yours  to  him.  In  managing  men,  in 
wielding  the  discipline  of  a  college,  the 
amazing  quickness  and  penetration  of 
his  -ntellect  made  him  the  fittest  of  all 
men  to  control  both  character  and  con- 
duct. The  offender  that  came  to  hide 
his  sin  behind  a  lie  found  the  lie  impos- 
sible, and  flung  hiinself  with  passionate 
tears  upon  the  love  of  the  man  that  both 
understood  and  pitied  his  weakness. 
Even  in  great  audiences,  when  he  spoke 
to  thousands  of  God  and  goodness,  the 
veils  of  self-deception  fell  away  before 
13  193 


James  21.  2)uncan, 

the  glances  that  he  shot  into  the  souls  of 
men.  ....... 

It  was  this  union  of  moral  with  intel- 
lectual force,  this  union  of  the  attractive 
power  of  love  with  the  penetrating  power 
of  understanding,  that  gave  to  Dr.  Dun- 
can his  unrivaled  and  irresistible  control 
over  the  heart  and  intellect  of  the  Vir- 
ginia people.  The  world  is  so  bad  that 
we  are  apt  to  confuse  amiability  with  sil- 
liness, and  to  see  a  sign  of  intellectual 
weakness  in  a  good  man's  love  and  care 
for  his  fellow-men.  But  here  at  least 
was  one  man  as  strong  as  he  was  good,  a. 
man  that  joined  to  the  charm  of  a  ten- 
derly loving  heart  the  power  of  a  splen-- 
did  genius  and  of  an  incisive  intelligence. 
Thus  he  rose  on  the  hearts  of  men  to  be- 
a  living  power  in  our  State  and  time.. 
Thus  to  each  man  that  saw  much  of  him,, 
to  every  human  being  that  was  for  long 
exposed  to  the  influence  of  his  words  and. 
actions,  the  man,  simple  and  kindly  and. 
great  in  all  his  deeds,  shone  forth  great 
as  the  revelation  of  a  higher  life,  as  the 
proof  and  example  of  what  Christ's  teach- 
ing meant. 

The  mystery  both  of  the  moral  power 

and  of  the  intellectual  power  of  this  great. 

man  lay  in  his  astounding  unselfishness;. 

for  the   egoistic    habit  of   mind  is  a  hin- 

194 


S^ames  B,  5>uncan. 

drance  not  only  to  the  moral,  but  also  to 
the  intellectual,  progress  of  the  man.  A 
selfish  regard  for  one's  own  interests,  the 
bad  trait  of  regarding  all  things  and  all 
men  as  subordinate  to  one's  own  designs, 
not  only  deadens  the  moral  sensibility, 
but  it  even  distorts  and  discolors  all  in- 
tellectual insight  into  the  world.  If  we 
fail  to  care  for  other  men's  good  hy  being 
so  busy  about  our  own,  we  fail  equally  to 
penetrate  into  their  characters,  and  to 
see  the  good  and  evil  that  is  in  them  by 
being  unable  to  remove  from  our  intel- 
lectual vision  the  beam  of  our  own  de- 
sires and  designs.  From  all  these  ob- 
stacles to  noble  acting  and  to  accurate 
thinking  Dr.  Duncan  was  sublimely  free. 
He  had  resigned  himself  so  fully  into 
the  hands  of  God  that  he  had  ceased  ab- 
solutely to  care  for  his  own  advantage 
or  to  be  perplexed  by  the  contemplation 
of  his  own  aims.  Thus  he  moved 
through  the  annual  courses  of  his  serene 
and  glorious  activity,  preaching  and 
teaching  and  helping  all  good  causes, 
with  a  mind  unperverted  from  great 
things  by  any  care  for  little  ones,  with  a 
soul  ready  for  any  sacrifice,  and,  what  is 
harder  still,  readv  to  throw  itself  into 
full  and  instantaneous  sympathy  with  any 
soul  that  opened  to  his  approach.  .  .  . 
195 


3^ame0  21.  2)uncan. 

All  the  ordinary  temptations  to  self- 
seeking  fell  off  powerless  from  the  su- 
preme unselfishness  of  his  nature.  When 
the  fame  of  his  eloquence  spread  over 
many  States,  when  he  was  acknowledged 
as  the  greatest  orator  of  his  Church  and 
perhaps  of  his  country,  when  the  richest 
churches  of  the  greatest  cities  offered  him 
vast  salaries  to  leave  the  struggling  peo- 
ple and  the  impoverished  college  that  he 
loved,  he  clung  fast  to  poverty,  and  put 
aside,  without  a  struggle,  the  temptations 
of  ease  and  wealth 

Like  his  Master,  he  chose  poverty 
rather  than  riches;  like  his  Master,  he 
chose  to  work  in  a  little  village,  among  a 
small  band  of  disciples,  rather  than 
among  the  splendors  and  plaudits  of 
cities.  Like  his  Master,  he  made  of  life 
one  long  series  of  sweetly  borne  self- 
sacrifices.  Before  the  spectacle  of  such 
sublime  self-depression  all  words  of 
common  praise  are  unseemly.  But  to 
them  that  lived  with  him,  who  saw  the 
great  soul  take  up  so  bravely  and  bear  so 
lovingly  the  burden  of  poverty,  trouble, 
and  suffering,  the  life  that  he  led  was  a 
miracle  of  beauty  and  holiness,  making 
the  world  brighter  and  nobler  by  even 
the  remembrance  of  him. 

In  his  preaching,  as  in  his  life,  the 
196 


James  21,  Duncan. 

same  blending  of  love  with  wisdom,  of 
childlike  simplicity  with  manly  power, 
was  revealed.  There  was  no  fierceness, 
no  affectation,  no  struggling  after  orator- 
ical effects.  But,  as  the  powers  of  his 
mind  got  into  motion,  as  the  thoughts 
rolled  on  clear  and  massive,  the  words 
and  sentences  grew  rich  and  lofty,  the 
sweet  voice  swelled  out  into  organ  tones, 
the  small  and  graceful  figure  swayed  to 
the  pulsations  of  his  thought,  and  the 
beautiful  face  glowed  with  the  illumina- 
tion of  love.  There  was  no  theology  in 
his  sermons,  no  polemical  divinity  in  his 
conceptions  of  divine  truth.  To  love 
God  and  to  love  men  was  for  him,  as 
Christ  taught  him,  the  sum  of  all  right- 
eousness. This  power  of  love  was  the 
agency  through  which  he  did  his  work  in 
the  world.  As  the  warmth  of  the  sun 
controls  all  the  processes  of  nature  and 
commands  all  the  movements  of  the  uni- 
verse, so  warmth  of  love,  as  the  central 
fact  of  God's  moral  government,  was  for 
him  the  source  of  all  power,  the  means 
of  subduing  all  wrong,  and  bringing  the 
world  back  into  harmony  with  God's 
laws. 

No  huinan  life  ever  lived  in  this  world 
of  ours  was  attuned  more  fully  to  a  lofti- 
er harmony.     As  we  think  of  all  the  good 
197 


James  B,  2)uncan. 

deeds  he  did,  of  all  the  wise  words  he 
spoke,  of  his  solemn,  jet  tender  warnings 
against  evil,  of  the  love  that  charmed  so 
inanj  souls  to  do  right,  of  the  sublime  un- 
selfishness that  made  his  life  a  sacrifice 
to  other  men's  good,  we  can  feel  that  to 
us,  in  our  own  State,  born  of  our  own 
stock,  in  full  sight  of  us  all,  a  man  has 
been  given  to  live  for  our  good,  as  nearly 
as  man  may,  up  to  the  life  storj  of  the 
Christ  himself. 

There  are  touches  in  the  forego- 
ing extract  that  go  below  the  sur- 
face, and  will,  it  is  hoped,  be  profit- 
ably suggestive  to  the  discerning 
reader,  who  wishes  to  know  the  se- 
cret of  a  life  of  such  exceptional 
beauty  and  beneficence,  a  life  in 
w^hich  genius  and  goodness  were  so 
graciously  blended  as  in  the  life  of 
James  A.  Duncan. 
198 


MRS.  SUSANNA  WESLEY. 

1670-1742. 


PARENTAGE. 

IT  has  been  said  of  the  pious 
mother  of  St.  Augustine  that  she 
"  is  better  known  by  the  branch 
of  her  issue  than  by  the  root  of  her 
parentage."  Her  memory  is  Hnked 
not  so  much  to  the  family  of  her 
father  as  to  the  undying  glory  of  her 
son.  Though  most  honorably  de- 
descended — an  inheritor  of  even  pa- 
trician blood — this  saying  may  be 
applied  with  equal  appropriateness  to 
the  mother  of  the  Wesley  s.  The  emi- 
nent and  enviable  place  accorded  her 
in  history  is  the  honor  of  having 
borne,  trained,  and  dedicated  to  God 
the  sons  whose  fame  will  be  co- 
eternal  with  the  gospel  of  a  free  and 
full  salvation.  She  will  be  remem- 
199 


/IRrs,  Susanna  "Mcelc^. 

bered  not  as  the  daughter  of  Dr. 
Annesley,  but  as  the  mother  of  John 
and  Charles  Wesley.  Yet  though 
the  fame  of  her  sons  has  overshad- 
owed the  name  of  her  father,  from 
him  she  inherited  those  remarkable 
traits  and  sterling  virtues  that  gave 
them  greatness.  Dr.  Samuel  Annes- 
ley, her  father,  w^as  one  of  the  giants 
of  his  day.  Born  in  the  shire  of  War- 
wick, renowned  for  its  military  he- 
roes and  as  the  home  of  Shakespeare, 
he  Vk^as  early  devoted  by  his  parents, 
in  solemn  vows  and  prayers,  to  the 
work  of  the  ministry.  When  a 
mere  child,  already  filled  with  the 
spirit  of  his  high  calling,  and  to 
thoroughly  equip  himself  for  his 
great  life  work,  he  began  reading 
twenty  chapters  a  day  in  the  Holy 
Scriptures,  and  continued  the  prac- 
tice to  the  end  of  his  life.  At  Ox- 
ford he  was  known  for  piety  and 
diligence.  Daniel  Defoe,  who  knew 
him  intimately,  thus  happily  de- 
scribes his  early  virtues  : 

200 


IBsvs.  Susanna  THUesle^. 

His  pious  course  with  childhood  he  be- 
gan, 

And  was  his  Maker's  sooner  than  his 
own. 

As  if  designed  by  instinct  to  be  great, 

His  judgment  seemed  to  antedate  his 
wit. 

Early  the  vigorous  combat  he  began, 

And  was  an  older  Christian  than  a  man. 

The  Heavenly  Book  he  made  his  only 
school, 

In  youth  his  study,  and  in  age  his  rule. 

He  became  a  minister  of  great 
power  and  eloquence.  His  voice 
was  potent  in  all  the  ecclesiastical 
conflicts  of  that  stormy  age.  Per- 
secuted because  of  his  nonconform- 
ity, he  displayed  the  inherent  energy 
of  his  family  by  an  unswerving, 
manly  independence.  No  command 
of  king,  nor  heel  of  tyrant,  could 
fetter  his  faith  or  crush  his  con- 
science. History  tells  that  one  of  his 
persecutors  fell  dead  while  preparing 
a  warrant  for  his  arrest.  Yet  with 
the  strength  of  the  lion  he  united 
the  gentleness  of  the  dove.  Full  of 
tenderness  and  sympathy  his  minis- 

201 


^rs.  Susanna  Mesle^. 

try  abounded  in  true  benevolence. 
The  minister  that  officiated  at  his 
funeral  exclaimed  :  "  O,  how  many 
places  had  sat  in  darkness — how 
many  ministers  had  starved — if  Dr. 
Annesley  had  died  thirty-four 
years  since !  " 

After  a  faithful  and  fruitful  min- 
istry of  more  than  half  a  century, 
he  died  in  1696,  exclaiming  :  "I  shall 
-be  satisfied  with  thy  likeness — satis- 
fied, satisfied  !  "  He  was  tenderly 
loved  by  all  "who  knew  him.  So 
strong  was  the  attachment  of  his 
noble  relative,  the  Countess  of  An- 
glesea,  that  she  requested  on  her 
deathbed  to  be  buried  in  his  grave. 
Cromwell  appreciated  his  eminent 
worth,  and  appointed  him  to  an  office 
at  St.  Pavil's.  Richard  Baxter  pro- 
nounced him  wholly  consecrated  to 
God.  The  nonconformists  consid- 
ered him  a  second  St.  Paul. 

Such  was  Dr.  Annesley,  the  no- 
ble father  of  Susanna  Wesley.  Of 
her  mother  little  is  known,  so  we 
can  never  estimate  how  much  the 
202 


flbrs.  Susanna  TKncsleg. 

world  owes  to  her  for  the  rare  gifts 
and  graces  that  ennobled  and 
adorned  her  remarkable  daughter. 
Doubtless  from  her  she  inherited 
those  almost  unexampled  domestic 
virtues  that  rendered  historic  the 
rectory  of  Epworth,  and  in  which 
was  born  the  Methodist  reforma- 
tion. 

Susanna  Annesley  was  born  in 
London  during  her  father's  ministry 
there,  and  was  the  youngest  child  in 
a  large  family  of  a  "  quarter  of  a 
hundred."  But  few  incidents  of  her 
early  childhood  have  been  preserved 
as  prophecies  of  her  subsequent 
great  renown.  She  was  carefully 
and  thoroughly  educated,  having 
accurate  knowledge  of  French,  and 
it  is  svipposed  also  of  the  Latin  and 
Greek.  Few  authors  have  ever 
written  the  English  language  with 
more  classic  elegance  and  rhetorical 
accuracy.  She  had  a  terseness  of 
style  and  facility  of  illustration  that 
gave  both  force  and  beauty  to  all 
her   writings.     Though  living  at  a 

203 


^rs.  Susanna  TKHesles. 

time  when  the  higher  education  of 
women  found  few  advocates  or 
apologists,  she  studied  with  un- 
wearied diligence,  and  became  a 
scholar  of  rather  varied  culture. 

In  childhood  she  displayed  her 
father's  independence  of  thought 
and  character.  The  story  is  told 
that  at  the  early  age  of  thirteen 
years  she  examined  the  whole  con- 
troversy between  Churchmen  and 
Dissenters,  and,  though  her  father 
was  an  eminent  Dissenting  minister, 
decided  in  favor  of  the  Established 
Church,  and  became  a  member 
thereof.  It  is  a  fact  that  she  changed 
her  views  and  left  the  communion 
of  her  father,  but  it  may  be  that 
there  was  a  "  tenderer  influence  "  at 
work — Samuel  Wesley,  a  "  spright- 
ly, intelligent  youth,"  who  was  a 
frequent  and  welcome  visitor  to  the 
home  of  Dr.  Annesley.  That  char- 
acteristic independence  gave  her  a 
discriminating  judgment  of  men 
and  books,  and  made  her  a  faithful 
204 


^rs.  Susanna  "Mcele^, 

guide  to  her  sons  during  all  their 
philosophical  doubts  and  fears. 
Though  thus  remarkably  gifted 
intellectually,  she  had  none  of  the 
singularities  of  genius.  She  is  rather 
distinguished  for  poise  of  character 
— for  the  "  balance  and  complete- 
ness "  of  her  faculties.  The  writ- 
ings of  Thomas  a  Kempis,  Bun- 
yan,  Jeremy  Taylor,  and  other  such 
authors,  furnished  the  food  on  which 
her  young  mind  fed  and  throve. 

In  addition  to  rare  mental  endow- 
ments and  the  graces  of  an  unusual 
culture,  she  had  brilliant  personal 
attractions.  She  was  very  beautiful. 
One  biographer,  describing  a  por- 
trait made  near  the  time  of  her  mar- 
riage, says :  "  Her  features  were 
slight,  but  almost  classical  in  their 
regularity."  Dr.  Adam  Clarke,  in 
speaking  of  a  fine  portrait  by  Sir 
Peter  Lely  of  one  of  her  sisters,  a 
charming  woman,  says  :  "  One  who 
well  knew  them  both  said  that,  beau- 
tiful as  Miss  Annesley  appears,  she 

205 


/IRrs.  Susanna  llXIleslcs. 

was  far  from  being  as  beautiful  as 
Mrs.  Wesley." 

Samuel  Wesley. 

Among  the  many  visitors  to  the 
home  of  Dr.  Annesley  for  counsel' 
and  consultation  was  Samuel  Wes- 
ley, a  young  student  for  the  minis- 
try. Here  he  met  the  beautiful  and' 
gifted  girl  destined  to  be  the  com- 
panion of  his  long  and  laborious  life 
— the  joy  and  inspiration  of  his 
early  hopes  and  the  sweet  benedic- 
tion of  his  declining  years.  He  was 
a  young  man  of  jfine  talents,  tireless 
industry,  and  fervent  piety.  His 
love  for  poetry  was  a  consuming 
passion.  From  him  Charles  Wes- 
ley inherited  a  poetic  genius  that 
gave  him  foremost  place  among  the 
great  hymnists  of  the  ages,  and  to 
whom  we  are  indebted  for  the  in- 
spiring liturgy  of  Methodism.  Sam- 
uel Wesley  published  several  elab- 
orate works  in  verse,  among  them 
«  A  Life  of  Christ,"  ^'A  History  of 

206 


/Hbrs.  Susanna  Tisacslcg. 

the  Old  and  the  New  Testaments," 
and  a  Latin  dissertation  on  the  book 
of  Job,  besides  a  number  of  fugitive 
pieces  of  more  or  less  merit.  His 
work  on  Job  displayed  profound 
learning  and  accurate  scholarship. 
As  a  preacher  he  -was  able  and  faith- 
ful. His  unyielding  tenacity  of 
opinion  at  times  involved  him  in  un- 
necessary antagonisms.  His  integ- 
rity w^as  almost  intolerant.  To  him 
a  good  conscience  was  of  more  val- 
ue than  popular  favor.  When  the 
"  Declaration "  of  James  H.  was 
ordered  to  be  read  in  the  churches, 
suspecting  it  to  be  an  insidious  de- 
sign of  the  papacy,  he  not  only  re- 
fused to  read  it,  but  preached  a  vig- 
orous sermon  against  it  with  all  the 
vehemence  of  righteous  indignation. 
Such  was  Samuel  Wesley,  who 
won  the  fair  hand  of  Susanna  An- 
nesley,  and  to  whom  he  was  mar- 
ried in  16S9,  when  she  was  yet  but 
nineteen  years  of  age.  At  this  time 
the  young  clergyman  had  a  curacy 

]Sr  207 


fllbrs,  Susanna  Mesleg. 

in  London  at  thirty  povuids  a  year. 
Here  he  labored  with  great  zeal  and 
acceptability  until  the  autuinn  of 
1S90,  Avhen  he  moved  to  South 
Ormsby,  in  Lincolnshii-e,  with  a  "liv- 
ing "  of  fifty  pounds  a  year.  After 
six  or  seven  years  spent  in  this  par- 
ish, supplementing  his  meager  liv- 
ing by  the  ceaseless  labors  of  his 
pen,  they  removed,  with  six  chil- 
dren, to  Epworth,  to  spend  the  re- 
mainder of  his  life  in  tireless  toil, 
and  supporting  a  large  family  on 
two  hundred  pounds  a  year.  This 
"living"  was  conferred  at  the  re- 
quest of  Queen  Mary,  to  whom  he 
had  dedicated  a  volume  in  token  of 
her  patronage  of  learning. 

Epworth. 

Epworth,  the  market  town  of 
Lincolnshire,  is  famed  in  the  early 
military  annals  of  England,  but  will 
ever  be  best  -known  in  history  as  the 
home,  for  forty  years,  of  Samuel 
and  Susanna  Wesley,  and  the  birth- 

208 


Sbx0,  Susanna  "Mcelc^, 

place  of  their  apostolic  sons.  The 
old  parish  church,  with  its  square 
and  stately  tower,  still  crowns  the 
highest  eminence  in  all  the  "  Isle  of 
Axholme."  The  Trent,  with  the 
windings  of  the  Idle,  Tom,  and  Don 
Rivers,  forms  "a  river  islet;"  Ep- 
worth  is  therefore  called  the  "  Me-* 
tropolis  of  the  Isle."  There  was 
the  home  for  forty  eventful  years  of 
as  interesting  a  family  group  as  ever 
distinguished  the  history  of  Eng- 
lish households.  Of  the  nineteen 
children  born  to  the  honored  par- 
ents, who  hailed  each  as  a  special 
gift  of  God,  thirteen  were  raised  to 
youth,  and  ten  lived  to  mature  age. 
Though  surrounded  by  the  ignorant 
and  profane,  oppressed  with  the  bur- 
dens of  poverty,  and  several  times 
basely  persecuted,  the  Epworth 
rectory  was  ever  the  home  of  peace, 
happiness,  intelligence,  and  piety. 
Like  true  missionaries  they  sought 
to  lift  the  people  to  a  higher  spirit- 
ual,   intellectual,    and     social    level. 

14  209 


Hbxe,  Susanna  WLeslCQ, 

One  writer  says  of  their  parishioners 
that  "  the  upper  classes  were  small 
landowners,  dreadfully  carefvil  of 
their  cash,  and  living  chiefly  on 
bread,  buttermilk,  ash  heap  cakes, 
eggs,  and  flour  puddings.  The  la- 
dies wore  the  gowns  and  cloaks 
which  had  so  well  served  their  an- 
cestors before  them.  The  memory 
of  the  oldest  inhabitant  could  not 
recall  ever  seeing  a  farmer  arrayed, 
at  any  one  time,  in  a  coiTiplete  suit  of 
new  clothes."  Such  surely  were  not 
associations  very  agreeable  to  the 
taste  of  the  accomplished  Mrs.  Wes- 
ley, yet  for  them  she  labored  with  a 
zeal  that  knew  no  abatement  and  a 
faith  that  felt  no  flagging.  From 
these  people,  stung  by  the  stern  re- 
bukes of  the  faithful  rector,  they  suf- 
fered opposition  even  to  persecution. 
Twice  the  rectory  was  fired  by  a 
rabble,  the  second  time  totally  con- 
sumed, including  the  manuscripts 
and  library  of  the  indefatigable  min- 
ister.    Mrs.  Wesley  came  near  per- 

210 


ISbxe,  Susanna  "Mcelc^, 

ishing  in  the  flames  ;  and  little  John, 
then  just  six  years  of  age,  sleeping 
in  a  room  upstairs,  was  only  res- 
cued by  the  interposing  hand  of  Di- 
vine Providence.  When  all  were 
found  to  be  safe  from  the  flames, 
the  venerable  father  and  pastor  ex- 
claimed :  "  Come,  neighbors,  let  us 
kneel  down  ;  let  us  give  thanks  to 
God.  He  has  given  me  all  my  eight 
children  ;  let  the  house  go,  I  am  rich 
enough."  Millions  at  this  day  on 
earth,  and  shining  ranks  ©f  glorified 
ones  in  heaven,  blessed,  if  not  re- 
deemed, by  the  agency  of  his  son, 
respond  to  that  prayer  of  thanks- 
giving. A  moment  more,  and  the 
great  founder  of  "the  people  called 
Methodists,"  before  his  apostolate 
began,  would  have  passed  away  in  a 
chariot  of  fire. 

The  True  Wife. 

As  a  wife — excelling  in  all  wifely 
virtues — Mrs.  Wesley  ranks  as  a 
model    of    noblest    type.       With    a 

211 


IS^iB.  Susanna  "Mesleg. 

lofty  conception  of  the  sacred  and  re- 
sponsible duties  of  the  marital  rela- 
tion, she  endeavored  with  perfect 
conscientiousness  to  pay  her  bridal 
vows.  Theirs  was  a  union  of  sound 
judgment  and  purest  affection,  a 
holy  plighting  of  heart  to  heart. 
They  found  in  each  the  elements  of 
highest  worth.  Mrs.  Wesley  was 
an  abiding  source  of  strength  and 
hope  to  her  husband  in  all  the  ar- 
duous labors  of  his  laborious  life. 
Without  her  prudent  economy  and 
really,  marvelous  management,  he 
never  could  have  achieved  so  much. 
The  rector  knew  books,  but  he 
was  very  innocent  of  business  af- 
fairs. This  simple  couplet  from  his 
own  pen  shows  how  passionately 
he  adored  and  admired  the  really 
great  woman : 

She  graced  my  humble  roof  and  blessed 

my  life, 
Blessed  me  by  a  far  greater  name  than 

wife. 

Accomplished  and  refined,  well  fitted 

212 


Hsve.  Susanna  IHIlesles. 

to  grace  the  most  brilliant  occasion 
or  exalted  social  position,  with  a 
glad  heart  and  unwearied  hands  she 
devoted  herself  to  the  modest  duties 
of  a  clergyman's  wife.  Though 
careful  to  make  a  small  stipend  sup- 
port a  large  family,  dreading  some- 
times to  hear  the  sheriff's  rap  at  the 
door  to  conduct  her  poor  husband 
to  prison  for  debt,  she  3'et  wore  a 
smile  of  contentment,  and  cheerfully 
trusted  in  Providence  to  make  all 
things  work  together  for  good.  No 
repinings  ever  escaped  her  lips, 
though  often  cumbered  ^vith  a  load 
of  care.  She  saw  her  home,  with 
all  its  contents,  burned  to  the  ground. 
She  saw  her  husband  carried  off  to 
jail  by  a  ruthless,  soulless  creditor, 
yet  with  true  Christian  fortitude  she 
bore  up  without  murmur  or  despair. 
In  the  darkest  hour  of  their  trials 
the  venerable  rector  exclaimed  :  "All 
this,  thank  God  !  does  not  in  the  least 
sink  my  wife's  spirits."  In  a  letter 
to  the  Archbishop  of  York  she  said  ; 

2  213 


IWiVB,  Susanna  Mesleg. 

"  I  have  learned  that  it  is  much 
easier  to  be  contented  without  riches 
than  with  them." 

It  is  hardly  possible,  however,  that 
two  persons,  alike  distinguished  for 
independence  of  judgment  and  tenac- 
ity of  opinion,  always  saw  eye  to 
eye  on  every  question.  As  illustra- 
tive of  the  fact  that  they  did  not 
an  amvising  story  is  told,  which,  if 
■founded  on  truth,  is  doubtless  an 
exaggeration.  It  is  said  that  in  their 
family  devotions  the  rector  dis- 
covered that  his  wife  did  not  respond 
w^ith  an  "Amen  "  when  he  prayed 
for  the  king.  Not  believing  in  the 
rightful  title  of  the  Prince  of  Orange, 
this  she  could  not  do.  Thus  said 
her  husband  :  "  Surely  if  that  be  the 
case,  we  must  part ;  for  if  we  have 
two  kings,  ^ve  must  have  two  beds." 
He  left,  so  the  story  goes,  and  went 
to  London,  where,  as  "  Convocation 
man  "  to  the  diocese  of  London,  he 
resided  for  quite  a  year.  On  his  re- 
turn. Queen  Anne  having  ascended 
^  214 


ISbts,  Susanna  "Mcele^s* 

the  throne  and  all  occasion  for  es- 
trangement being  removed,  domes- 
tic harmony  was  entirely  restored. 
The  incident  is  puerile  enough  ;  but 
if  true,  it  rather  indicates  the  petu- 
lancy  of  the  rector  than  the  obstinacy 
of  his  ever  loving  companion.  Most 
any  conscience  ought  to  be  content 
with  earnest  and  regular  praying  to 
the  Lord,  vs^ithout  forcing  everybody 
to  say  "Amen "  to  every  petition. 
But  there  is  such  spiritual  morbid- 
ness even  in  this  day. 

The  Model  Mother. 

As  a  mother  Mrs.  Wesley  won 
her  crown  of  fadeless  glory.  The 
Lord  honored  her  with  what  the 
rector  himself  called  "  a  numerous 
offspring,  eighteen  or  nineteen  chil- 
dren." The  ten  reared  to  manhood 
and  vv^omanhood  bore  the  impress  of 
their  mother's  genius,  and  to  her 
gave  highest  praise  for  their  train- 
ing and  success.  From  under  no 
niother's   eye  has   there   ever    gone 

215 


^rs.  Susanna  TMUcsles. 

forth  a  more  remarkable  family  of 
sons  and  daughters.  To  discover 
the  secret  of  her  success,  one  must 
analyze  the  mother's  distinguishing 
characteristics,  and  study  the  plans 
and  principles  she  adopted  for  the 
education  of  her  children.  She  had 
an  exalted  conception  of  the  respon- 
sibility and  honor  of  motherhood. 
Her  children  were  not  considered  a 
burden  or  a  calamity,  but  with  old 
Jewish  pride  she  hailed  each  as  the 
manifest  token  of  God's  special  fa- 
vor. Rightly  to  train  them  for 
large  usefulness  and  eternal  happi- 
ness was  her  constant  study  and  ear- 
nest prayer.  To  great  firmness  she 
united  an  almost  exhaustless  pa- 
tience. Said  her  husband  on  one 
occasion :  "  I  wonder  at  your  pa- 
tience ;  you  have  told  that  child- 
twenty  times  that  same  thing." 

"  Had  I  satisfied  myself  by  men- 
tioning the  matter  only  nineteen 
times,"  replied  Mrs.  Wesley,  "  I 
should  have  lost  all  my  labor.     You 


/Bbrs.  Susanna  "Mcsle^, 

see  it  was  the  twentieth   time   that 
crowned  the  whole." 

The  training  of  her  children  was 
according  to  strict  method,  but 
"  without  mechanical  rigor,"  They 
were  like  other  children,  merry  and 
frolicsome,  but  never  rude  and  offen- 
sive. For  their  physical  education 
she  had  special  care.  Their  sleep- 
ing and  eating  were  regulated  ac- 
cording to  her  own  good  judgments 
They  never  ate  between  meals,  and 
ate  without  question  or  comment 
the  food  prepared.  When  a  child 
reached  its  first  anniversary  it  was 
"  taught  to  fear  the  rod  and  crjy 
softly.''''  And  it  is  authoritatively 
stated  that  "  not  one  of  them  was 
heard  to  cry  aloud  after  it  was  a 
year  old."  However  skeptical  I 
might  be  in  accepting  such  a  story 
of  an  ordinary  household,  I  think 
it  quite  true  of  the  Wesley  family. 
Disrespect  or  rudeness  to  servants, 
never  escaped  due  punishment.  In 
addressing  a  domestic  they  were  re- 

217 


ISbxs.  Susanna  Mesle^. 

quired  to  say  :  "  Pray,  give  me  such 
a  thing."  On  the  fifth  birthday  of 
each  child  she  began  its  education, 
and  on  the  evening  of  the  first  day, 
with  only  one  exception,  they  had 
thoroughly  mastered  the  alphabet. 

For  their  religious  culture  she  had 
a  pious  mother's  tender  solicitude. 
They  were  taught  to  pray  regular- 
ly, and  never  to  eat  without  asking 
a  blessing  upon  their  food.  She 
wrote  three  volumes  with  her  own 
hand  to  be  used  as  text-books  for  her 
children :  a  manual  of  doctrine,  a 
dissertation  on  the  Apostles'  Creed 
and  an  exposition  of  the  Ten  Com- 
mandments. But  to  her  religion 
was  more  than  correct  theology. 
So  every  day  she  conversed  and 
prayed  with  her  children.  "  I  take 
such  a  proportion  of  time,"  she 
writes,  "  as  I  can  best  spare  every 
night  to  discourse  with  each  child 
by  itself.  On  Monday  I  talk  with 
Molly ;  on  Tuesday,  with  Hetty ; 
Wednesday,   with    Nancy ;    Thurs- 

218 


tSstQ,  Susanna  "Meslc^, 

day,  with  Jacky  ;  Friday,  with  Pat- 
ty ;  Saturday,  with  Charles ;  and 
with  EmiHa  and  Sukey  together  on 
Sunday."  No  wonder  she  was  so 
divinely  blessed  in  the  spiritual 
growth  and  life  of  her  children. 
Such  devotion  can  never  escape  di- 
vine benediction.  Would  God  that 
there  were  more  such  mothers  in 
the  Church  to-day  !  In  the  midst 
of  his  active  and  distinguished  ca- 
reer John  Wesley  thus  wrote  to  his 
wonderful  mother :  "  If  you  can 
spare  me  only  that  little  part  of 
Thursday  evening,  which  you  for- 
merly bestowed  upon  me  in  another 
manner,  I  doubt  not  that  it  would 
be  as  useful  now  for  correcting  my 
heart  as  it  was  then  for  forming  my 
judgment."  With  the  learned  Dr. 
Adam  Clarke,  I  am  now  ready  to 
say  :  "  Such  a  family  I  have  never 
read  of,  heard  of,  or  known ;  nor 
since  the  days  o£  Abraham  and 
Sarah,  and  Joseph  and  Mary  of 
Nazareth,  has  there  ever  been  a 
219 


Sbxe,  Susanna  TKaesleg* 

family  to  which  the  human  race  lias 
been  more  indebted." 

Rules  of  Family  Government. 
After  the  facts  given  above,  I  am 
sure  that  every  reader  would  like  to 
see  the  '■'■  method''''  by  which  this 
wonderful  mother  achieved  such  re- 
inarkable  results.  They  may  aid  in 
the  right  ordering  of  other  homes. 
In  a  letter  written  to  John  Wesley, 
dated  Epworth,  July  24,  1732,  she 
says  :  "According  to  your  desire,  I 
have  collected  the  principal  rules 
that  I  observed  in  educating  my 
family."     Here  are  the  "rules  :" 

The  children  were  always  put  into  a 
regular  method  of  living  in  such  things 
as  thej  were  capable  of  from  their  birth, 
as  in  dressing,  undressing,  changing  their 
linen,  etc.  The  first  quarter  commonly 
passes  in  sleep;  after  that  thej  were,  if 
possible,  laid  in  their  cradles  awake  and 
rocked  to  sleep;  and  so  thej  were  kept 
rocking  till  it  was  time  for  them  to 
awake.  This  was  %one  to  bring  them  to 
a  regular  course  of  sleeping,  which  at 
first  was  three  hours  in  the  morning  and 
220 


ISits,  Susanna  "Meelc^, 

three  in  the  afternoon — afterwards  two 
hours,  till  thej  needed  none  at  all.  i 

When  turned  of  a  year  old,  and  some 
before,  thej  were  taught  to  fear  the  rod 
and  cry  softly;  by  which  means  they  es- 
caped abundance  of  correction  that  they 
might  otherwise  have  had,  and  that  most 
odious  noise  of  the  crying  of  children 
was  rarely  heard  in  the  house,  but  the 
family  usually  lived  in  as  much  quietness 
as  if  there  had  not  been  a  child  among 
them. 

As  soon  as  they  were  grown  pretty 
strong  they  were  confined  to  three  meals 
a  day.  At  dinner  their  little  tables  and 
chairs  were  set  by  ours,  where  they 
could  be  overlooked;  and  thej^  were  suf- 
fered to  eat  and  drink  (small  beer)  as 
much  as  they  would,  but  not  to  call  for 
anything.  If  they  wanted  aught,  they 
used  to  whisper  to  the  maid  that  at- 
tended them,  who  came  and  spake  to  me, 
and  as  soon  as  they  could  handle  a  knife 
and  fork  they  were  set  to  our  table. 
They  were  never  suffered  to  choose  their 
meat,  but  always  made  to  eat  such  things 
as  were  provided  for  the  familj^. 

Mornings  they  always  had  spoon-meat, 

sometimes  at  night;  but  whatever  they 

had,  they  were  never  permitted  to  eat  at 

those  meals  of  more  than  one  thing,  and 

221 


/JBrs.  Susanna  TKIlesles. 

of  that  sparingly  enough.  Drinking  or 
eating  between  meals  was  never  allowed, 
unless  in  case  of  sickness,  which  seldom 
happened.  Nor  were  they  suffered  to 
go  into  the  kitchen  to  ask  anything  of 
the  servants  when  they  were  at  meat;  if 
it  was  known  that  they  did  so,  they  were 
certainly  beaten,  and  the  servants  severe- 
ly reprimanded. 

At  six,  as  soon  as  family  prayer  was 
over,  they  had  their  supper;  at  seven  the 
maid  washed  them,  and,  beginning  at  the 
youngest,  she  undressed  and  got  them  all 
to  bed  by  eight,  at  which  time  she  left 
them  in  their  several  rooms  awake,  for 
there  was  no  such  thing  allowed  of,  in 
our  house,  as  sitting  b}^  a  child  till  it  fell 
asleep. 

They  were  so  constantly  used  to  eat 
and  drink  what  was  given  them  that, 
when  any  of  them  were  ill,  there  was  no 
difficulty  in  making  them  take  the  most 
unpleasant  medicine,  for  they  durst  not 
refuse  it,  though  some  of  them  would 
presently  throw  it  up.  This  I  mention 
to  show  that  a  person  may  be  tavxght  ta 
take  anything,  though  it  be  ever  so  much 
against  his  stomach. 

In  order  to  form  the  minds  of  children^ 
the  first  thing  to  be  done  is  to  conquer 
their  will,  and  bring  them  to  an  obedien.t 
222 


/iRrs,  Susanna  TKHeslei?. 

temper.  To  inform  the  understanding  is 
a  work  of  time,  and  must  with  children 
proceed  by  slow  degrees,  as  they  are  able 
to  bear  it;  but  subjecting  the  will  is 
a  thing  that  must  be  done  at  once,  and 
the  sooner  the  better;  for  by  neglecting 
timely  correction,  they  will  contract  a 
stubbornness  and  obstinacy  which  are 
hardly  ever  after  conquered,  and  never 
without  using  such  severity  as  would  be 
as  painful  to  me  as  to  the  child.  In  the 
esteem  of  the  world  they  pass  for  kind 
and  indulgent,  whom  I  call  cruel,  parents; 
who  permit  their  children  to  get  habits 
which  they  know  must  be  afterward 
broken.  Nay,  some  are  so  stupidly  fond, 
as  in  sport  to  teach  their  children  to  do 
things  which  in  a  while  after  they  have 
severely  beaten  them  for  doing.  When 
a  child  is  corrected  it  must  be  conquered, 
and  this  will  be  no  hard  matter  to  do,  if  it 
be  not  grown  headstrong  by  too  much 
indulgence.  And  when  the  will  of  a 
child  is  totally  subdued,  and  it  is  brought 
to  revere  and  stand  in*  awe  of  the  parents, 
then  a  great  many  childish  follies  and 
inadvertencies  may  be  passed  by.  Some 
should  be  overlooked  and  taken  no  notice 
of,  and  others  mildy  reproved;  but  no 
willful  transgression  ought  ever  to  be 
forgiven  children,  without  chastisement, 
O  223 


/llbrs.  Sueanna  Mesleig. 

less  or  more,  as  the  nature  and  circum- 
stances of  the  offense  maj  require. 

I  insist  upon  conquering  the  will  of 
children  betimes,  because  this  is  the  only 
strong  and  rational  foundation  of  a  re- 
ligious education,  Avithout  which  both 
precept  and  example  will  be  ineffectual; 
but  when  this  is  thoroughly  done,  then  a 
child  is  capable  of  being  governed  by  the 
reason  and  piety  of  its  parents  till  its  own 
understanding  comes,  and  the  principles 
of  religion  have  taken  root  in  the  mind. 

I  cannot  yet  dismiss  this  subject.  As 
self-will  is  the  root  of  all  sin  and  misery, 
so  whatever  cherishes  this  in  children  in- 
sures their  after  wretchedness  and  irre- 
ligion.  Whatever  checks  and  modifies  it 
promotes  their  future  happiness  and 
piety.  This  is  still  more  evident  if  we 
further  consider  that  religion  is  nothing 
else  than  doing  the  will  of  God  and 
not  our  own;  that  the  one  grand  impedi- 
ment to  our  temporal  and  eternal  happi- 
ness being  this  self-will,  no  indulgence  of 
it  can  be  trivial,  no  denial  unprofitable. 
Heaven  or  hell  depends  on  this  alone;  so 
that  the  parent  who  studies  to  subdue  it 
in  his  child  works  together  with  God  in 
the  renewing  and  saving  a  soul.  The 
parent  who  indulges  it  does  the  devil's 
work — makes  religion  impracticable,  sal- 
224 


/IRrs.  Susanna  'Meele's. 

Tation  unattainable — and  does  all  that  in 
him  lies  to  damn  his  child,  soul  and  body, 
forever. 

The  children  of  this  family  were 
taught,  as  soon  as  they  could  speak,  the 
Lord's  Prayer,  which  they  were  made  to 
say  at  rising  and  bedtime  constantly,  to 
which  as  thev  grew  bigger  were  added  a 
short  prayer  for  their  parents  and  some 
collects,  a  short  catechism  and  some  por- 
tion of  Scripture,  as  their  memories 
could  bear. 

They  were  very  early  made  to  dis- 
tinguish the  Sabbath  from  other  days — 
before  they  could  well  speak  or  go, 
They  were  as  soon  taught  to  be  still  at 
family  prayers  and  to  ask  a  blessing  im- 
mediately after,  which  they  used  to  do  by 
signs  before  they  could  kneel  or  speak. 

They  were  quickly  made  to  under- 
stand that  they  might  have  nothing  that 
they  cried  for,  and  instructed  to  speak 
handsomely  for  what  they  wanted. 
They  were  not  suffered  to  ask  even  the 
lowest  servant  for  aught  without  saying. 
"Pray,  give  me  such  a  thing;"  and  the 
servant  was  chid  if  she  ever  let  them 
omit  that  word. 

Taking  God's  name  in  vain,  cursing 
and  swearing,  profaneness,  obscenity, 
rude,  ill-bred  names,  were  never  heard 
15  225 


/IRrs.  Suaanna  Mcsles. 

among  them ;  nor  were  they  ever  per- 
mitted to  call  each  other  bj  their  proper 
names  without  the  addition  of  brother  or 
sister. 

There  was  no  such  thing  as  loud  talk- 
ing or  playing  allowed,  but  every  one 
was  kept  close  to  business  for  the  six 
hours  of  school.  And  it  is  almost  in- 
credible what  a  child  may  be  taught  in  a 
quarter  of  a  year  by  a  vigorous  applica- 
tion, if  it  have  but  a  tolerable  capacity 
and  good  health.  Kezzy  excepted,  all 
could  read  better  in  that  time  than  the 
most  of  women  can  do  as  long  as  they 
live.  Rising  out  of  their  places,  or  go- 
ing out  of  the  room,  was  not  permitted 
except  for  good  cause ;  and  running  into 
the  yard,  garden,  or  street  was  always 
esteemed  a  capital  offense. 

For  some  years  we  went  on  very  well. 
Never  were  children  in  better  order. 
Never  were  children  better  disposed  to 
piety  or  in  inore  subjection  to  their  par- 
ents till  that  fatal  dispersion  of  them, 
after  the  fire,  into  several  families.  In 
those  they  were  left  at  full  liberty  to 
converse  with  servants,  which  before 
they  had  always  been  restrained  from; 
and  to  run  abroad  to  play  with  any  chil- 
dren, good  or  bad.  They  soon  learned 
to  neglect  a  strict  observance  of  the  Sab- 
226 


/Iftrs,  Susanna  Mesle^. 

bath,  and  got  knowledge  of  several  songs 
and  bad  things,  which  before  thev  had 
no  notion  of.  That  civil  behavior,  which 
made  them  admired  when  they  were  at 
home  b^'  all  who  saw  them,  was  in  a 
great  measure  lost,  and  a  clownish  ac- 
cent and  many  rude  ways  were  learned, 
which  were  not  reformed  without  some 
difficulty. 

When  the  house  was  rebuilt,  and  the 
children  all  brought  home,  we  entered 
on  a  strict  reform;  and  then  was  begun 
the  custom  of  singing  psalms  at  begin- 
ning and  leaving  school  morning  and 
evening;  then  also  that  of  a  general  re- 
tirement at  live  o'clock  was  entered  upon, 
when  the  oldest  took  the  j'oungest  that 
could  speak,  and  the  second  the  next,  to 
whom  they  read  the  Psalms  for  the  daj' 
and  a  chapter  in  the  New  Testament — as 
in  the  morning  thev  were  directed  to 
read  the  Psalms  and  a  chapter  in  the  Old 
Testament — after  which  they  went  to 
their  private  prayers  before  they  got 
their  breakfast  or  came  into  the  family. 

There  were  several  by-laws  observed 
by  us : 

"  I.  It   had   been   observed  by  us  that 

cowardice  and  fear  of  punishment  often 

lead   children    into   lying,  till   they  get   a 

custom   of   it  which   they   cannot   leave. 

227 


/Ibrs,  Susanna  "Mcslc^* 

To  prevent  this,  a  law  was  made  that 
whoever  was  charged  with  a  fault,  of 
Avhich  they  were  guilty,  if  they  would 
ingenuously  confess  it,  and  promise  to 
amend,  should  not  be  beaten.  This  rule 
prevented  a  great  deal  of  lying,  and 
would  have  done  more,  if  one  in  the  fam- 
ily had  observed  it.  But  he  could  not  be 
prevailed  on,  and  therefore  was  often 
imposed  upon  by  false  colors  and  equivo- 
cations, which  none  would  have  used  but 
one,  had  they  been  kindly  dealt  with; 
and  some,  in  spite  of  all,  would  always 
speak  truth  plainly. 

"2,  That  no  sinful  action,  as  lying,  pil- 
fering at  church  or  on  the  Lord's  day, 
disobedience,  quarreling,  etc.,  should  ever 
pass  unpunished. 

"  3.  That  no  child  should  be  ever  chid 
or  beaten  twice  for  the  same  fault;  and 
that,  if  they  amended,  they  should  never 
be  upbraided  with  it  afterwards. 

"4.  That  every  signal  act  of  obedience, 
especially  when  it  crossed  upon  their  own 
inclinations,  should  be  always  commend- 
ed, and  frequently  rewarded,  according 
to  the  merits  of  the  case. 

"  5.  That  if  ever  any  child  performed 
an  act  of  obedience  or  did  anything  with 
an  intention  to  please,  though  the  per- 
formance was  not  well,  yet  the  obedience 
228 


/Iftrs.  Susanna  "QClcslei^. 

and  intention  should  be  kindly  accepted, 
and  the  child  with  sweetness  directed 
how  to  do  better  for  the  future. 

"  6.  That  propriety  be  inviolably  pre- 
served, and  none  suffered  to  invade  the 
property  of  another  in  the  smallest  mat- 
ter, though  it  were  but  of  the  value  of  a 
farthing,  or  a  pin,  which  they  might  not 
take  from  the  owner  without,  much  less 
against,  his  consent.  This  rule  can  never 
be  too  much  inculcated  on  the  minds  of 
children,  and  from  the  want  of  parents  or 
governors  doing  it  as  they  ought  pro- 
ceeds that  shameful  neglect  of  justice 
which  we  may  observe  in  the  world. 

"7.  That  promises  be  strictly  observed, 
and  a  gift  once  bestowed,  and  so  the 
right  passed  away  from  the  donor,  be  not 
resumed,  but  left  to  the  disposal  of  him 
to  whom  it  was  given,  unless  it  were  con- 
ditional, and  the  condition  of  the  obliga- 
tion not  performed." 

The  Devout  Christian. 
As  a  Christian  Mrs.  Wesley  was 
conscientious  and  devout.  Amid 
all  the  multiplied  cares  and  duties  of 
her  numerous  household,  she  never 
neglected  her  private  devotions  nor 
abated     her    parish     duties.      From 

3  229 


^rs.  Susanna  Mesleg. 

childhood  she  adhered  rigidly  to  one 
rule,  "  not  to  spend  more  time  in 
amusements  in  one  day  than  she 
spent  in  meditation  and  prayer." 
Religion  was  the  delightful  atmos- 
phere of  her  home.  The  Epworth 
rectory  was  a  very  sanctuary  of 
glad  hearts  and  cheerful  song.  Mrs. 
Wesley's  religious  life  was  distin- 
guished by  great  prayerfulness. 
For  divine  strength  and  guidance 
she  constantly  besought  the  Lord. 
"Two  hours  of  the  day,  one  in  the 
morning  and  another  in  the  evening, 
with  an  occasional  interval  at  noon, 
were  consecrated  to  secret  commun- 
ion with  God."  Another  practice, 
which  she  recommended  to  others, 
was  scrupulously  observed  through 
life  :  "  Make  an  examination  of  yovir 
conscience  at  least  three  times  a  day, 
and  omit  no  opportunity  of  retire- 
ment fron:i  the  world."  In  a  letter 
to  John  on  one  occasion  she  said  : 
"  I  see  nothing  in  the  disposition  of 
your  time  but  what  I  approve,  un- 

-_  230 


^rs,  Susanna  Wesleig. 

less  it  be  that  you  do  not  assign 
enough  of  it  to  meditation,  which 
is,  I  conceive,  incomparably  the  best 
means  to  spiritualize  our  affections, 
confirm  our  judgment,  and  add 
strength  to  our  pious  resolutions,  of 
any  exercise  whatever." 

During  her  husband  s  absence  in 
London  she  had  worship  in  her 
own  house  with  the  children  and 
servants.  At  one  of  these  Simday 
afternoon  meetings  at  the  rectory  a 
few  neighbors  were  present.  They 
enjoyed  the  occasion,  reported  it,  and 
the  next  Sabbath  the  number  in- 
creased, vmtil  at  length  as  many  as 
two  hundred  came.  When  the  mat- 
ter was  reported  to  her  husband, 
while  approving  "  her  zeal  and  good 
sense,"  he  stated  several  objections 
to  its  continuance.  In  reply  Mrs. 
Wesley  "wrote  to  her  honored  hus- 
band in  substance  as  follows  : 

I    heartily    thank   you  for  dealing   so 
plainly  and  faithfully  with  me  in  a  matter 
of   no  common    concern.     The    main   of 
231 


^rs.  Susanna  'Mesle^. 

your  objections  against  our  Sunday  even- 
ing meetings  are,  first,  that  it  will  look 
particular;  secondly,  my  sex;  and  lastly, 
your  being  at  present  in  a  public  station 
and  character — to  all  which  I  shall  an- 
swer briefly. 

As  to  its  looking  particular,  I  grant  that 
it  does ;  and  so  does  everything  that  is  se- 
rious, or  that  may  in  any  way  advance 
the  glory  of  God  or  the  salvation  of  souls, 
if  it  be  ^performed  out  of  the  fulpit  or  in  the 
way  of  common  conversation;  because  in 
our  corrupt  age  the  utmost  care  and  dili- 
gence have  been  used  to  banish  all  dis- 
course of  God  or  spiritual  concerns  out  of 
society,  as  if  religion  were  never  to  ap- 
pear out  of  the  closet,  and  Ave  were  to  be 
ashamed  of  nothing  so  much  as  profess- 
ing ourselves  to  be  Christians. 

To  your  second,  I  reply  that,  as  I  am  a 
woman,  so  I  am  also  mistress  of  a  large 
family;  and  though  the  superior  charge 
of  the  souls  contained  in  it  lies  upon  you, 
as  head  of  tne  family,  and  as  their  minis- 
ter, yet  in  your  absence  I  cannot  but 
look  upon  every  soul  you  leave  under 
my  care  as  a  talent  committed  to  me,  un- 
der a  trust,  by  the  great  Lord  of  all  the 
families  of  heaven  and  earth.  I  thought 
it  my  duty  to  spend  some  part  of  the  day 
in  reading  to  and  instructing  my  family, 
especially  in  your  absence,  when,  having 
232 


ifbvs,  Susanna  TKHcsle^. 

no  afternoon's  service,  we  nave  so  much 
leisure  for  such  exercises;  and  such  time 
I  esteemed  spent  in  a  v^^ay  more  accepta- 
ble to  God  than  if  I  had  retired  to  my 
own  private  devotions.  This  was  the  be- 
ginning of  my  present  practice;  othet 
people  coming  in  and  joining  with  us 
was  purely  accidental. 

Your  third  objection  I  leave  to  be 
answered  by  your  own  judgment. 

From  the  above  it  will  be  seen 
that  Mrs.  Wesley  had  no  thought 
of  assuming  the  functions  of  the 
pulpit,  but  her  "  irregularity  "  con- 
sisted in  conducting  family  worship 
at  the  rectory,  to  ^vhich  the  neigh- 
bors were  attracted,  and  from  Avhich 
they  were  not  excluded.  Her  point 
was  that  more  should  be  done  for 
the  salvation  of  souls  "  out  of  the 
pulpit."  Thus  was  her  life  a  con- 
stant and  holy  ministry.  The  priest- 
ess of  a  happy  family,  her  offerings 
of  faith  and  love  will  be  a  fragrant 
and  eternal  sacrifice  unto  the  God 
and  Father  of  all  flesh. 

On  the  25th  of  April,  1735,  Sam- 

233 


iSsxB,  Susanna  Wesley. 

uel  Wesley,  the  toil-worn  rector  and 
devoted  husband,  passed  to  the  bet- 
ter land.  Just  outside,  and  near  the 
east  end,  of  the  old  church  where  he 
had  faithfully  ministered  for  so 
many  years  he  was  gently  laid  to 
rest.  The  tomb  is  a  flat  stone,  sup- 
ported by  brickwork,  on  the  face  of 
which  is  the  following  inscription 
composed  by  Mrs.  Wesley  herself  * 

Here 

Ljeth  All  That  Was 

Mortal  of  Samuel  Wesley, 

A.M.     He  was  Rector  of  Ep- 

worth  39  Years,  and  Departed 

This  Life  25th  of  April,  1735, 

Aged  72: 

And  as  he  Lived  so  he  Died 

In  the  True  Catholic  Faith 

'Of  the  Holy  Trinity  in  Unity, 

And  that  Jesus  Christ  is  God 

Incarnate:  And  the  Only 

Savior  of  Mankind. 

Acts  iv.  12. 

Blessed  are  the  Dead 

Which  Die  in  the  Lord,  Yea 

Saith  the  Spirit  That  They  May 

Rest  From  Their  Labours  and 

Their  Works  Do  Follow  Them. 

Rev.  xiv.  13. 

Some    years    after    the    ascended 
rector   had  been   laid    beneath    that 

234 


IS!)X3.  Susanna  TKUcsles* 

tomb  his  distingviished  son  stood 
vipon  it  and  preached  to  a  vast  con- 
gregation gathered  in  the  silent  city 
of  the  dead.  Denied  his  father's 
pulpit  and  a  place  at  the  chancel 
where  his  mother  used  to  kneel,  at 
the  request  of  eager  multitudes  he 
made  a  pulpit  of  that  father's  tomb, 
and  talked  of  the  heaven  to  which 
he  had  gone. 

With  a  sad  heart  the  now  aged 
mother  of  the  Wesleys  passed  out 
of  the  old  parsonage,  so  tenderly  in- 
terwoven with  the  dearest  memories 
of  an  eventful  life,  to  spend  the  rem- 
nant of  her  days  among  her  devoted 
children.  They  vied  with  each  oth- 
er, in  gentle  ministries,  to  make  the 
evening  of  her  life  peaceful  and 
happy.  Among  them  she  moved  a 
wise  counselor,  and  an  inspiration  to 
holy  endeavor.  Having  trained  her 
children  for  God,  she  acquiesced 
readily  whenever  and  wherever  he 
called  them,  however  great  her  sac- 
rifice.    When    John     Wesley    was 

235 


jflRrs.  Susanna  Mesles. 

entreated  by  Gen.  Oglethorpe  and 
others  to  go  as  a  missionary  to  the 
North  American  Indians  and  the 
settlers  in  Georgia,  he  declined, 
pleading  the  loneliness  of  his  wid- 
Q-wed  mother.  He  would  not  lay  an- 
other stroke  on  her  already  bruised 
and  aged  spirit.  At  last,  however, 
he  agreed  to  go  if  his  mother  inter- 
posed no  objection.  Her  consent 
would  be  interpreted  as  confirming 
the  call  of  Providence.  When  con- 
sulted, instead  of  objecting  as  was 
natural,  if  not  justifiable,  she  readily 
consented,  and  added  these  divinely 
inspired  words  :  "  Had  I  twenty 
sons,  I  should  rejoice  were  they  all 
so  employed,  though  I  should  never 
see  thein  more." 

Her  consecration  was  -well-nigh 
perfect.  Because  of  joyous  expe- 
rience she  had  late  in  life  when  tak- 
ing the  communion,  the  idea  ob- 
tained and  found  place  in  Mr.  Wes- 
ley's Journal  that  she  did  not  until 
then  experience  the  inward  consola- 

236 


/Bbrs.  Susanna  TKIlesles. 

tions  of  divine  grace.      And  in  the 
inscription  on  her  tomb  is  this  line  : 

"A  legal  night  of  seventy  jears." 
But  Dr.  Adam  Clarke  clearly  dis- 
proves the  statement,  and  sho^vs 
that  from  early  life  she  had  the  con- 
scious "  favor  and  approbation  of 
God."  Five  and  twenty  years  be- 
fore that  especial  baptism  of  the 
Spirit  at  the  comiTivniion  service  she  ■ 
w^rites  of  "a  constant  sense  of  God 
upon  the  soul,"  and  rapturously  ex- 
claims :  "/  do  love  Thee.''''  Again, 
she  says  :  "  Give  God  the  praise  for 
any  well-spent  day.  But  I  am  yet 
unsatisfied,  because  I  do  not  enjoy 
enough  of  God.  I  would  have  my 
soul  more  closely  united  to  him  by 
faith  and  love."  And  years  after 
she  writes  :  "  Every  degree  of  ap- 
proach toward  him  is,  in  the  same 
proportion,  a  degree  of  happiness." 
One  who  had  such  joyous  fello^v- 
ship  with  her  Lord  M^as  certainly 
not  in  "legal  night." 

Methodism    owes     much     to    the 

237 


/Iftrs.  Susanna  Wesley. 

mother  of  the  Wesleys.  With  Isaac 
Taylor  we  may  say  with  grateful 
reverence  :  "  Wesley's  mother  was 
the  mother  of  Methodism.*'  Her 
apostolic  sons,  in  all  their  evang-elis- 
tic  labors,  had  their  mother's  -warm- 
est  sympathies  and  constant  prayers. 
To  her  wise  counsel  and  calm  fore- 
sight Methodism  is  indebted  for  lay 
evangelism,  which  converted  that 
great  revival  into  a  spiritual  revolu- 
tion, and  established  the  mightiest 
ecclesiasticism  of  modern  times. 
During  Mr,  Wesley's  absence  in  the 
North  of  England  Thomas  Max- 
field,  ^vithout  other  authority  than 
the  call  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  began 
preaching  to  the  "  Old  Foundry '' 
congregation.  Mr.  Wesley  was 
shocked  at  such  "  Irregularity,"  and 
hastened  to  London  to  stop  a  scan- 
dal ;  but  fortunately  for  the  world, 
he  first  met  his  mother,  whose  will 
and  judgment,  even  at  the  height  of 
his  fame  and  po^ver,  had  for  him  the 
authority  of  law.     She  said  :  "  My 

238 


/IRrs.  Susanna  "Mcelc^. 

soil,  I  charge  you  before  God,  be- 
ware what  you  do ;  for  Thomas 
Maxfield  is  as  much  called  to  preach 
the  gospel  as  ever  you  -were."  Mr. 
Wesley  heard  him,  was  convinced, 
and  Maxfield  became  the  first  of  that 
long  line  of  lay  preachers  that  have 
carried  the  gospel  round  the  world. 

And  doubtless  many  of  the  plans 
and  measures  elaborated  in  the 
"  United  Societies  "  had  their  origin 
in  the  family  government  of  the  Ep- 
worth  parsonage. 

In  a  house  connected  with  the  Old 
Foundry  church  in  London  Mrs. 
Wesley  spent  her  last  days.  Sur- 
rounded by  all  her  children,  on  the 
23d  of  July,  1742,  she  peacefully  fell 
asleep  in  Jesus.  Her  dying  words 
were  :  "  Children,  as  soon  as  I  am 
released^  sing  a  psalm  of  praise  to 
God."  And  they  did.  That  blessed 
parting  testimony  has  been  pre- 
served in  one  of  Charles  Wesley's 
funeral  hymns,  and  sung  to  the  com- 
fort of  bereaved  millions  : 

P  239 


Ilkv6,  Susanna  Wieslc^e* 

Lo!  the  prisoner  is  released, 
Lightened  of  her  fleshly  load; 

Where  the  weary  are  at  rest, 
She  is  gathered  in  to  God! 

John  Wesley  himself  officiated  at 
the  funeral  in  presence  of  "  almost 
an  innumerable  company  of  people." 
Over  the  open  grave  he  preached  a 
sermon  from  this  text :  "  I  saw  a 
great  white  throne,  and  him  that 
sat  on  it,  from  whose  face  the  earth 
and  the  heaven  fled  away  ;  and  there 
was  found  no  place  for  them.  And 
I  sa\v  the  dead,  small  and  great, 
stand  before  God ;  and  the  books 
"were  opened :  and  another  book 
was  opened,  ^vhich  is  the  book  of 
life  :  and  the  dead  were  judged  out 
of  those  things  that  were  written  in 
the  books,  according  to  their  works." 

A  plain  stone  was  placed  at  the 
head  of  her  grave,  -with  an  elaborate 
inscription.  But  the  stone  and  in- 
scription were  both  unsatisfactory. 
A  new  monument  has  been  erected, 
on  which  are  these  words  : 

240 


ISSits,  Susanna  Idesleg. 

Here  lies  the  body  of 

Mrs.  Susannah  Wesley, 

Widow  of  the  Rev.  Samuel  Wesley,  M.A. 

(late  Pastor  of  Epworth,  in  Lincolnshire), 

Who  died  July  23,  1742, 

Aged  73  years. 

She  was  the  youngest  Daughter  of  the 

Rev.  Samuel  Annesley,  D.D.,  ejected  by 

the  Act  of 
Uniformity  from  the  Rectory  of  St.  Giles's, 

Cripplegate,  Aug.  24,  1662. 

She  was  the  Mother  of  Nineteen  Children, 

of  whom  the  most  eininent  were  the 

Rev.  John  and  Charles  Wesley: 

the  former  of  whom  was  txnder  God  the 

Founder  of  the  Societies  of  the  People 

Called  Methodists. 

In  Bunhill  Fields,  near  the  dust  of 
Bvmyan,  the  immortal  dreamer ;  of 
Dr.  Watts,  the  sweet  psalinist ;  of 
Daniel  DeFoe,  the  beloved  of  chil- 
dren to  the  last  generation  ;  and  just 
across  the  street  from  City  Road 
Chapel,  her  mortal  remains  await 
the  glad  morning  of  the  resurrec- 
tion. In  the  emulation  and  imita- 
tion of  her  radiant  virtues  may  the 
Church  preserve  a  perpetual  mem- 
ory of  the  mother  of  the  Wesleys ! 
With  Dr.  Clarke,  I  am  ready  to 
say  :  "  Many  daughters  have  done 
virtuously,  but  Susannah  Wesley 
has  excelled  them  all." 

16  241 


1bul)barb  lb,  1kavanaugb» 

1802-1884. 


WHO  could  sketch  Bishop  Kav- 
anaugh  as  he  really  was? 
Who  that  did  not  know  him 
in  person  could  accept  as  trvie  a 
sketch  of  him  that  would  at  all  sat- 
isfy his  surviving  contemporaries? 
The  strength  of  a  giant,  with  the  gen- 
tleness of  a  woman  ;  "  the  tongue  of 
an  angel, with  the  heart  of  a  child;" 
the  wisdom  of  a  sage,  with  a  wit  that 
was  fresh  as  the  sparkling  springs 
of  his  own  Kentucky  hills ;  with  an 
imagination  that  soared  like  an  eagle 
in  his  loftiest  flights  and  fluttered 
like  the  humming  bird's  wings 
among  the  flowers  of  poesy  ;  with 
a  logic  that  compelled  conviction  in 
robust  minds,  and  a  tenderness  that 
distilled  comfort  for  bruised  and 
broken  hearts  ;  a  man  of  God  and  a 
243 


IbubbarO  1bfn&e  IkavanauQb. 

man  of  the  people  ;  the  wonder  of 
the  wise,  and  the  idol  of  the  masses 
— he  was  all  this  in  his  day.  He 
wrote  but  little,  and  while  the  fruits 
of  his  life  and  labors  abide  with  us 
and  will  never  be  lost,  this  new 
generation  can  have  but  a  faint  con- 
ception of  the  man  as  he  was,  or 
but  imperfectly  realize  the  sense  of 
impoverishment  that  mingled  with 
the  grief  of  the  Church  when  he 
died.  Perhaps  no  man  in  the  en- 
tire history  of  the  Church  did  as 
much  positive  good  while  rousing 
so  little  antagonism. 

He  was  one  of  a  group  of  great 
men.  Though  differing  from  them 
all  in  his  genius  and  personality,  he 
shared  with  the  foremost  of  them 
in  the  love  and  esteem  of  the 
Church  while  they  were  all  living. 
In  the  perspective  he  does  not 
dwindle  in  the  comparison.  In  his 
declamatory  bursts  he  was  scarcely 
inferior  to  that  princely  pulpit  ora- 
tor,  Henry    B,  Bascom.     In    steel- 

244 


IDubbarD  Din&e  Ikavanaugb. 

linked  logic,  William  A.  Smith,  the 
corypheus  of  the  great  debate  in 
the  forties,  did  not  excel  him.  In 
the  coruscations  of  a  wit  that  was 
spontaneous  and  sparkling,  with 
never  a  trace  of  acidity,  and  a  hu- 
mor that  was  irresistibly  conta- 
gious, but  never  coarse,  he  might 
be  ranked  with  McFerrin  or  Rich- 
ardson. In  his  pathos  he  touched 
the  chords  of  the  heart  ^vith  a 
power  as  subduing  as  that  of  the 
massive  yet  tender  A.  L.  P.  Green. 
In  lucidity  of  statement  he  might 
at  times  be  ranked  with  Bishop 
McTyeire,  whose  brain  powder  and 
Saxon-English  were  second  to  no 
man's  of  his  day  or  ours.  If  he 
did  not  always  equal  Bishop  Pierce 
in  the  brilliancy  of  his  rhetoric — 
for  on  this  line  his  efforts  were  un- 
equal— his  flight  w^as  as  lofty  and 
his  wing  as  tireless  in  the  sweep  of 
his  sanctified  imagination.  If  he 
had  not  as  many  angles  or  gnarled 
spots  in  his  composition  as  Lorenzo 

245 


IbubljarJ)  IbfnDe  Ikavanauflb. 

Dow,  Peter  Cartwright,  or  Moses 
Brock,  his  individuality  was  not  less 
marked.  A  personality  more  am- 
ple, benignant,  and  unique  has  not 
risen  among  us  than  that  of  Hub- 
bard H.  Kavanaugh — orphan  boy, 
typesetter  in  a  printing  office,  cir- 
cuit rider,  station  preacher,  presid- 
ing elder,  editor,  superintendent  of 
public  instruction,  bishop  —  every- 
body's friend,  and  paterfamilias  of 
the  vast  Methodist  family  from  the 
Big  Sandy  in  Kentvicky  to  the 
Golden  Gate  in  California.  To  the 
thousands  who  will  read  his  name 
at  the  head  of  this  sketch  the  re- 
membrance of  him  is  compounded 
of  affection,  gratitude,  and  admira- 
tion. To  the  younger  generation 
of  readers,  our  Epworth  Leaguers 
and  others,  it  is  hoped  that  the 
reading  of  it  will  excite  both  admi- 
miration  and  a  spirit  of  emulation, 
and  thus  in  some  measure  lead 
them  to  glorify  God  in  him. 

It    means    something    more   than 

246 


DubbarD  1bin£>e  IRavanauflb. 

the  statement  of  a  biographical  fact 
to  say  that  Bishop  Kavanaugh  was 
a  Kentuckian,  His  Kentucky  na- 
tivity was  in  his  physique.  The 
juices  of  the  bhie  grass  pastures 
were  in  the  veins  and  tissues  of  liis 
compact  and  robust  body.  The 
easy  swing,  the  cumulative  energy, 
the  verbal  abandon  of  the  old  Ken- 
tucky oratory,  were  his.  He  was, 
above  all,  an  orator.  That  is  the 
tradition  of  him  that  will  survive. 
'  In  that  line  he  did  the  work  which 
made  his  fame  and  blessed  his  gen- 
eration. Let  the  fact  be  here  em- 
phasized that  he  was  no  mere  de- 
claimer  or  "  sky  scraper."  Lofty 
indeed  were  the  flights  of  his  elo- 
quence, but  who  ever  heard  him 
preach  a  sermon  the  body  of  which 
was  not  made  up  of  sound  doctrine 
and  sti'ong  logic?  He  was  emi- 
nently, but  not  slavishly,  textual ;  a 
preacher  mighty  in  the  Scriptures. 
He  expounded  a  text  as  few  men 
could.  He  would  focalize  upon  a 
247 


IbubbarD  IbinDe  IRavanaufib. 

question  or  point  proof  texts  and 
explanatory  passages  of  scripture 
until  it  absolutely  blazed.  But 
when  a  breeze  of  fancy  or  gale  of 
passion  struck  him  in  the  pulpit,  he 
was  quick  to  spread  his  canvas  and 
sweep  the  waves.  "  It  has  been 
said  to  me  that  I  sometimes  leave 
my  text,  and  I  know  it  to  be  true," 
he  once  said  ;  "  but,"  he  added,  with 
a  twinkle  in  his  eyes,  "  I  keep  in 
sight  of  it,  so  that  I  can  go  back  to 
it — if  I  want  toy  His  memory 
w^as  stored  with  the  words  of  the 
Bible,  and  his  soul  was  saturated 
with  its  spirit.  To  any  Christian 
man  or  woman  who  had  an  intelli- 
gent interest  in  the  vital  truths  of 
the  gospel,  and  any  measure  of  re- 
sponsiveness to  it  as  an  experience, 
it  was  a  positive  luxury  to  hear  him 
in  one  of  his  great  discourses.  On 
such  occasions  he  was  lost  in  his 
theme  ;  he  himself  was  first  over- 
powered by  it,  and  then  his  hearers 
also.     The    pangs    that   pierce   the 

248 


DubbarO  IDinde  IRavanauQb. 

penitent  soul,  the  burden  that  op- 
presses it,  the  darkness  that  envel- 
ops it,  the  sense  of  ^^uilt  and  shame 
that  terrify  and  strike  it  dumb,  he 
described,  mostly  in  Bible  language, 
with  a  wonderful  power.  Sin  and 
hell,  holiness  and  heaven,  were  real- 
ities to  him.  It  was  a  joy  to  be 
remembered  for  a  lifetime  to  hear 
him  describe  the  conversion  of  a 
sinner.  It  was  impossible  for  saint 
or  sinner  to  resist  the  contagion  of 
his  own  enjoyment,  which  expressed 
itself  in  his  dilating  form,  the  kin- 
dling of  his  eye,  the  sweep  of  his 
arms,  and  the  rapture  that  was  on 
his  face.  It  was  oratory — and  some- 
thing more.  That  something  can- 
not be  put  on  paper.  It  was  that 
which  fell  upon  the  disciples  and 
the  multitude  at  the  Pentecost,  and 
shone  in  the  face  of  Stephen  be- 
fore the  council.  Such  a  sermon 
he  preached  at  San  Jos^,  Cal.,  in 
1863.  For  special  reasons,  not  nec- 
essary   here    to    detail,    our    people 

i*  249 


iJubbarD  IDinDc  IRavanaugb. 

wished  him  to  do  his  best  that  day. 
The  house  was  full,  and  expecta- 
tion high.  He  started  heavily,  like 
the  revolutions  of  the  paddle  wheel 
of  a  mighty  steamer  in  getting  un- 
der way.  Among  his  hearers  was 
Dr.  Charles  Wadsworth,  that  St. 
John  of  the  Presbyterian  pulpit, 
whose  sermons  were  exquisite  prose 
-poems  that  charmed  and  edified 
crov^ded  and  cultured  congregations 
in  Philadelphia  and  San  Francisco. 
From  my  seat  in  the  pulpit  I 
watched  the  renowned  Presbyterian 
divine  as  he  sat  there  and  listened  to 
the  stalwart  Kentuckian,  who  was 
as  unlike  himself  as  one  good  man 
could  be  unlike  another.  The  text 
was  :  "  There  is  a  spirit  in  man  :  and 
the  inspiration  of  the  Almighty  giv- 
eth  them  understanding."  (Job 
xxxii.  8.)  The  sermon  lacked  noth- 
ing that  makes  a  sermon  great.  It 
was  an  argument  against  material- 
ism. He  dug  it  up  by  the  roots.  His 
logic  was   as  merciless   as  his  spirit 

250 


IbubbarD  1bin&e  Ikavanaugb. 

was  kindly.  By  the  time  he  had 
reached  his  peroration  he  had  every 
hearer  under  the  spell  of  his  elo- 
quence ;  every  eye  was  attent,  every  - 
brain  aroused,  every  heart  respon- 
sive. And  that  peroration  !  It  can 
never  be  forgotten.  The  closing 
thought  was  that  of  the  eternal  pro- 
gression of  the  redeemed  soul  in  the 
world  of  spirits.  As  he  spoke  he 
seemed  to  feel  in  all  his  being  the 
powers  of  the  life  to  come,  to  behold 
the  glory  that  he  pictured  to  his  hear-  . 
ers,  and  to  thrill  and  tremble  as  if  in-, 
the  presence  of  the  King  immortal, 
eternal,  invisible,  the  infinite  and 
blessed  God.  It  was  literally  over- 
whelming. When  he  sat  down 
there  were  long  respirations  and 
straightening  up  of  necks  that  w^ere 
leaned  forward,  with  here  and  there 
half-uttered  expressions  of  the  deep, 
profound  emotion  of  the  rapt  audi- 
tory. "I  thank  God  for  bringing 
me  here  this  day  !  "  exclaimed  Dr. 
Wadsworth,    grasping     my    hand ; 

251 


■fijubbarD  Din&e  IRavanaugb. 

"  that  was  the  grandest  sermon  I 
ever  heard."  At  this  distance  of 
time  the  "words  do  not  seem  extrav- 
g-ant.  The  way  in  which  this  ser- 
n:ion  began  and  ended  recalls  the 
remark  of  one  who  asked  a  friend, 
"  Did  you  ever  hear  Bishop  Kava- 
naugh  preach  ?  "  and  after  getting 
a  negative  answer,  added,  "  Well, 
you  ought  to  hear  him.  The  first 
half  hour  you  will  wish  that  he  had 
never  begun,  and  the  last  half  hour 
you  will  wish  that  he  would  never 
end." 

When  Methodism  is  grafted  upon 
Irish  stock  we  may  look  for  sancti- 
fied wit  or  sanctified  pugnacity,  and 
usually  grace  abounding  is  demand- 
ed to  keep  the  wit  and  the  pugnaci- 
ty within  proper  bounds.  Bishop 
Kavanaugh  was  as  full  of  wit  and 
humor  as  a  ripened  California 
orange  is  full  of  juice ;  but  if  he 
ever,  in  his  merriest  moods,  offend- 
ed against  genuine  courtesy  or  true 
refinement,   I  have  never   heard   of 

252 


IbubbarO  IbmDc  IRavanaugb. 

it.  Pugnacity,  or  combativeness,  he 
had  ;  his  chest,  neck,  and  back  head 
might  have  been  those  of  a  prize 
figliter ;  but  the  religion  of  love 
made  hiin  a  child  of  God,  and  he 
loved  all  men.  The  elements  in  his 
nature  fliat  might  have  developed 
into  extra  combativeness  on  the  nat- 
ural plane,  under  the  reign  of  grace 
made  him  a  mighty  man  of  God 
and  a  leader  in  the  militant  Church. 
His  Celtic  extraction  exhibited  itself 
in  his  ruddy  complexion  and  san- 
guine temperament.  On  the  mater- 
nal side  his  heredity  vs^as  Anglo- 
Virginian.  His  grandfather  was 
Dr.  Thomas  Hinde,  who  married 
Mary  T.  Hubbard.  They  were 
nominal  Episcopalians  of  average 
quality.  When  the  Methodists  came 
to  that  part  of  the  country  they  went 
to  hear  them  from  curiosity,  and, 
like  hundreds  and  thousands  of  oth- 
ers, they  were  converted  in  the 
midst  of  such  scenes  as  recalled  the 
wonders  of  New  Testament  times. 

253 


DubbarJ)  IblnDe  IkavanaufiD. 

The  opposition  to  Methodism  was 
intensified  by  its  success.  The  old 
order  of  things  was  broken  up. 
Formalists  protested,  unbelievers 
scoffed ;  but  the  indomitable  itiner- 
ants marched  on,  preaching,  sing- 
ing, shouting,  making  the  most  he- 
roic chapters  in  the  history  of  mod- 
ern Christianity.  Little  of  this  his- 
tory has  gone  into  the  chronicles  of 
human  achievement,  but  it  is  record- 
ed on  high.  For  what  is  best  in 
the  character  and  institutions  of  the 
people  of  the  middle,  southern,  and 
western  States  of  America  they  are 
more  indebted  to  the  pioneer  Meth- 
odist preachers  than  to  any  other 
human  agency.  It  is  told  as  a  char- 
acteristic incident  of  those  times 
that  the  maternal  grandfather  of 
Bishop  Kavanaugh,  Dr.  Hinde:„ 
thinking  that  his  wife's  "  profession  " 
under  Methodist  preaching  indi- 
cated lunacy,  rather  than  conver- 
sion, applied  a  blister  plaster  to  the 
back  of  her  neck  "  to  bring  her  to 

254 


IbubbarO  1bin5e  IRavanaugb. 

her  senses,"  as  he  expressed  it. 
The  result  was  very  different  from 
what  he  hoped  for.  The  wife's 
meekness,  patience,  and  heroism  had 
the  effect  of  a  blister  applied  to  the 
conscience  of  the  husband  ;  he  was 
awakened  and  "  powerfully  "  con- 
verted, and  became  a  Methodist  for 
life.  The  grandson,  our  bishop, 
had  the  simplicity  and  fervor  of  the 
grandfather,  with  the  persistence 
and  intensity  of  the  grandmother. 
Of  his  own  mother,  Hannah  Hub- 
bard Hinde,  he  said  :  "  The  leading 
characteristics  that  marked  the  life 
of  my  mother  were  patience,  forti- 
tude, and  trust  in  God ;  a  general 
affection  for  all  good  people,  and  a 
generous  concern  for  the  bad ;  a 
deep  and  abiding  sympathy  for  the 
poor  and  unfortunate ;  a  strong  at- 
tachment to  the  cause  of  God,  his 
Church,  and  the  ministry."  For 
several  years  previous  to  her  death 
she  was  disabled  by  a  stroke  of 
palsy.  "  In  this  condition,"  said  the 
Q  255 


•K)ut)l)arJ)  Dln&c  IRavanauflb. 

Bishop,  "  she  gave  herself  to  much 
meditation  and  singing,  or  humming 
the  tunes  in  which  she  had  been  ac- 
customed to  praise  God."  She  had 
firmly,  but  gently  declined  to  go 
with  her  first  husband  into  the  Epis- 
copal Church.  She  was  married 
thrice.  Her  religion  and  her  Meth- 
odism stood  all  the  strains  that  were 
put  upon  her.  Her  first  taste  of 
Methodism  was  when  she  was  in 
her  twelfth  year,  in  Virginia.  Even 
so  sound  an  Arminian  as  Bishop 
Kavanaugh  himself  might  not  find- 
it  difficult  to  believe  that  he  was  in  a 
good  and  true  sense  predestined  to 
be  a  Methodist,  and  that  she  was 
foreordained  to  be  the  mother  of  a 
Methodist  bishop. 

Left  an  orphan  in  his  fifth  year 
by  the  death  of  his  father,  the  care 
of  the  boy  who  was  to  become  the 
future  bishop  devolved  exclusively 
upon  his  mother.  In  his  last  years 
he  said  that  he  had  never  dis- 
obeyed   his    mother    nor    been    tm- 

256 


DubbarD  Tbin&e  TKavanaugb. 

mindful  of  her  wishes.  Read  that 
remark  over  again  ;  the  words  seem 
to  be  luminous  as  the  eye  rests  on 
them.  In  his  boyhood  he  was 
faithful  and  courageous,  biit  in  no 
wise  precocious  or  peculiar.  At  the 
age  of  thirteen,  "  anxious  to  place 
within  the  reach  of  her  son  the 
means  of  support,  and  desirous  to 
protect  his  morals "  —  mark  the 
words — "  she  bound  him  as  an  ap- 
prentice to  the  Rev.  John  Lyle,  of 
Paris,  K}^,  to  learn  the  printing 
business."  Mr.  Lyle  was  a  devout 
and  able  minister  of  the  Presbyte- 
rian Church.  Seeing  the  promise 
of  the  boy,  he  often  took  him  with 
him  to  his  preaching  appointments. 
That  he  profited  by  the  companion- 
ship, conversation,  and  sermons  of 
the  sturdy  and  kindly  Presbyterian 
preacher,  we  may  not  doubt.  The 
instructions  of  Mr.  Lyle,  coopera- 
ting with  the  influence  of  his  mother, 
prepared  him  for  the  awakening 
touch  that  came  to  him  while  listen- 

17  257  1** 


•DuDbarD  TbinDe  iRavanaugb. 

ing  to  a  sermon  by  a  Baptist  preach- 
er. He  tells  us  that  he  was  con- 
verted so  clearly  and  powerfully  that 
he  shouted  the  praises  of  God.  It 
is  not  strange  that  so  many  were 
made  to  shout  for  joy  under  his  own 
preaching  afterwards.  His  spirit- 
ual children  were  after  his  own  like- 
ness in  that  particular.  Referring 
to  the  agencies  employed  in  his  con- 
version, he  often  said  :  "  I  covild  not 
be  a  bigot ;  for  my  father  was  a 
Protestant  Episcopal  clergyman,  my 
mother  a  Methodist.  I  was  awak- 
ened under  a  sermon  preached  b}^  a 
Baptist  preacher,  and  converted 
while  traveling  with  a  Presb3'terian 
preacher.  So  I  owe  something  to 
all  the  Churches,  and  could  not  be  a 
bigot  if  I  were  to  try." 

The  kind-hearted  and  discerning 
Mr.  Lyle  made  him  the  offer  of  a 
classical  education  on  condition  that 
he  would  enter  the  Presbyterian 
Church.  The  metal  of  his  mother 
was    manifested    in    her    reply  :  "  I 

258 


•fiJulJbarJ)  1bin&e  IRavanaugb. 

want  him  to  be  first  a  Christian, 
and  next  a  Methodist ;  to  me  they 
mean  the  same  thing.  If  God  has 
called  Hubbard  to  preach,  he  has 
called  him  to  preach  a  free  salvation." 
Yea,  verily  !  •  Who  ever  preached  a 
freer,  fuller,  more  joyous  salvation 
than  he?  Among  the  heroines  of 
Methodism — the  shining  roll  is  not 
yet  completed,  thanks  be  to  God ! — 
the  name  of  this  mother  of  our  bish- 
op is  to  be  registered.  Like  that 
other  Hannah  of  sacred  renov^^n,  she 
might  have  said  :  "  For  this  child  I 
prayed,  and  the  Lord  hath  given  me 
my  petition  w^hich  I  asked  of  him ; 
therefore  also  I  have  lent  him  to 
the  Lord.  As  long  as  he  liveth  he 
shall  be  lent  to  the  Lord."  Is  it  not 
true,  as  a  rule,  that  the  special  touch 
that  comes  to  men  called  to  minister 
in  sacred  things  comes  through  the 
mother?  Ah,  if  every  minister  of 
Christ  who  read  these  lines  were  to 
answer  the  foregoing  inquiry,  the 
consensus  of  their  testimony  would 
259 


•tt)ubbar&  Ibin&e  IRavanaiigb. 

thrill  many  a  filial  heart,  and  make- 
many  a  godly  mother  in  Israel  feel 
like  joining  Elkanah's  wife  in  her 
thanksgiving  song. 

The  saying  of  Dr.  Johnson  con- 
cerning Oliver  Goldsriiith  might  be 
reversed  and,  with  a  slight  change, 
applied  to  Bishop  Kavanaugh  with 
some  propriety  :  "  He  spoke  like  an 
angel,  and  ^vrote  like  " — a  man  who 
disliked  \vriting.  He  ^vas  a  preach- 
er, not  a  writer.  He  has  left  but 
little  of  his  printed  thought  for  pos- 
terity. In  his  ordinary  pulpit  efforts 
he  rarely,  if  ever,  used  "  notes  "  of 
any  sort.  Plis  genius  "v^'as  cramped 
by  pen  and  ink.  "  Paper  is  a  potent 
nonconductor  in  the  pulpit,"  he  once 
said  in  his  kindly  way  to  a  j^oung 
preacher  who  had  stammered  and 
floundered  through  his  notes  in  a 
frightened  attempt  at  preaching  in 
his  presence.  He  himself  once  fur- 
nished a  striking  illustration  of  the 
truth  of  this  remark.  It  ^vas  on  the 
occasion  of  the  delivery  of  his  semi- 
260 


IbubbarO  IbmOe  IRavanaugb. 

centennial  sermon  before  the  An- 
nual Conference  in  the  city  of  Lex- 
ington, Ky.  It  was  a  touching 
service,  into  which  were  crowded 
the  memories  of  fifty  years.  His 
sermon  was  -written,  and  the  manu- 
script lay  before  him.  It  was  his 
first  effort  at  sermon  reading.  He 
groped  along  the  lines  doubtfully 
and  hesitatingly  until,  fired  by  some 
suggestion  that  struck  his  mind,  he 
forgot  the  manuscript,  and  soared 
aloft  into  one  of  his  characteristic 
oratorical  flights ;  then,  remember- 
ing the  special  demands  of  the  occa- 
sion, he  reverted  to  the  w^riting  be- 
fore him,  but  alas  !  he  had  forgot- 
ten w^here  he  had  last  been  reading, 
or  was  unable  to  find  the  place.  So 
he  went  on,  halting  and  floundering, 
for  two  mortal  hours,  both  the 
speaker  and  the  audience  being  fully 
consciotis  that  he  was  not  a  good 
reader  of  sermons.  That  was  his 
first  and  last  effort  in  that  role — as 
well  it  might  have  been. 

261 


IbubbarJ)  DinDe  iRavanaugb. 

It  is  proper  for  us  here  to  put  to- 
gether a  few  threads  of  history. 
Bishop  Kavanaugh  was  licensed  to 
preach  in  1822,  being  recommended 
to  the  District  Conference  by  the 
Quarterly  Conference  of  the  Mt. 
Sterling  Circuit.  In  those  days 
there  were  giants  in  the  Methodist 
ministry  in  Kentucky.  Among  them 
were  svich  men  as  Thomas  A.  Mor- 
ris, afterwards  a  bishop,  a  man  in 
whom  common  sense  was  incarna- 
ted, and  devoutness  also ;  Marcus 
Lindsey,  a  "  doctrinal  preacher," 
for  whom  there  was  special  need  in 
those  days  of  polemic  fermentation, 
a  massive,  rounded  man,  a  wise 
leader,  and  an  able  preacher ;  An- 
drew Monroe,  symmetrical,  sensible, 
and  saintly ;  Peter  Cartwright,  a 
hard  hitter,  a  rough  diamond  that 
needed  attrition  and  got  it ;  Benja- 
min T.  Crouch,  with  the  dash  of  a 
cavalier  and  the  tenacity  of  a  Cov- 
enanter, portly  in  his  physique,  with 
a  large-heartedness  that  made    him 

262 


•©ubbarO  IbinDcJRavanaugb. 

the  friend  of  every  man  and  the 
benefactor  of  all  the  needy  within 
his  reach ;  Ed^vard  Stevenson,  a 
Christian  minister,  broad-minded, 
scholarly,  sweet-souled ;  Benjamin 
Larkin,  a  burning  and  shining  light, 
a  revivalist  in  whose  tracks  the  wil- 
derness bloomed ;  Jonathan  Stamp- 
er, a  defender  of  Methodism  at  a 
time  when  it  was  attacked  on  all 
sides,  an  expounder  of  the  Scrip- 
tures who  did  expound,  a  magnetic 
and  lovable  man,  whose  name  is  as 
ointment  poured  forth  ;  and  Barna- 
bas McHenry,  a  man  of  great  po^v- 
er  in '  the  pulpit,  and  spotless  life, 
whose  biographical  sketch  closes 
with  the  quaint  reixiark  that  "he  en- 
joyed the  blessing  of  sanctiiication, 
and  died  of  cholera,  in  triumph,  on 
the  1 6th  of  June,  1833."  There 
were  others  not  less  worthy.  These 
were  the  men  that  molded  }oung 
Kavanaugh  ;  they  were  his  models, 
guides,  censors,  and  helpers.  For 
Larkin,  who  received  him  into  the 

263 


IbubbarD  IbfuDc  IRavanaufib. 

Church,  he  always  felt  an  affection 
that  was  almost  filial.  His  license 
to  preach  bore  the  signature  of 
Lindsey. 

Bishop     Kavanaugh     was     twice 
married,  and  both  times  most  hap- 

Young  Kavanaugh  grew  steadil}'- 
in  strength  and  popularity.  On  cir- 
cuits and  stations,  as  college  agent, 
as  superintendent  of  public  instruc- 
tion by  appointment  of  Gov.  Clark, 
as  corresponding  editor  for  a  short 
time  of  the  JMethodist  Expositor 
and  True  Issue^  and  as  delegate 
to  successive  General  Conferences, 
he  rendered  effective  service  to 
his  Church  and  the  cause  of  Christ. 
Though  distasteful  to  him,  his 
editorial  work  was  well  done.  He 
took  hold  of  it  earnestly  from  a 
sense  of  duty,  a  motive  that  lightens 
all  burdens  and  sweetens  all  sacri- 
fices. It  is  said  that  many  of  the 
ablest  articles  on  the  troubles  that 
agitated  the  Church  were  from  his 
264 


DubbarO  IbinDe  IRavanaugb. 

pen.*  His  department  of  the  paper^ 
it  is  said,  "abounded  in  sparkling 
wit  and  richest  humor,"  a  statement 
easy  of  belief  to  all  who  knew  him. 
On  those  lines  he  was  so  felicitous 
and  unfailing  that  not  even  the  in- 
evitable asperities  of  sectarian  or 
sectional  controversy  could  chill  the 
glow  of  his  sunny  and  joyous  spirit. 
A  short  pastorate  in  Cincinnati  dur- 
ing that  stormy  time  was  a  trying 
and  instructive  episode  in  his  pastor- 
al experience.  He  did  not  escape  the 
friction  incident  to  the  existing  con- 
ditions ;  but  he  struck  no  foul  blow 
during  all  the  strife,  and  came  out 
of  it  with  no  bitterness  in  his  heart, 
and  no  burden  upon  his  conscience. 
He  was  a  member  of  the  fateful 
General  Conference  of  1844,  when 
the    Methodist    Episcopal     Church 

^The  Methodist  Expositor  and  True 
Issue  was,  as  its  name  indicates,  a  product 
of  the  times.  It  championed  the  South- 
ern side  in  the  great  debate  which  pre- 
ceded the  conflict  of  arms. 
265 


UubbarD  DinDc  IRavanaugb. 

was  divided  on  a  geographical  line. 
He  went  with  his  section,  as  did 
most  of  his  colleagues.  It  was  to 
him  a  painful  necessity,  but  a  neces- 
sity it  seemed  to  be. 

He  was  also  a  member  of  the 
convention  which  met  in  Louisville 
in  May,  1845,  at  which  the  question 
of  the  organization  of  a  separate  ec- 
clesiastical jvirisdiction  was  consid- 
ered. He  spoke  with  great  power 
in  behalf  of  such  action.  He  closed 
his  speech  in  the  words  of  Ruth  to 
Naomi — his  eyes  sweeping  over  the 
body  of  delegates,  who  were  pro- 
foundly affected  by  his  eloquence  : 
"  Whither  thou  goest,  I  will  go ; 
and  where  thou  lodgest,  I  will  lodge  : 
thy  people  shall  be  my  people,  and 
thy  God  my  God  :  where  thou  diest, 
will  I  die,  and  there  will  I  be  buried  : 
the  Lord  do  so  to  me,  and  more  also, 
if  aught  but  death  part  thee  and 
me."  (Ruth  i.  16,  17.)  That  pledge 
■was  kept  in  letter  and  spirit. 

His  election  to  the  episcopacy  in 

266 


IbubbarO  IbinDeJRavanaugb. 

1854  was  the  natural  outcome  of  the 
conditions  existing,  and  a  natural 
expression  of  the  esteem  in  which 
he  was  held  by  the  Church.  The 
three  bishops  then  elected,  Pierce, 
Early,  and  Kavanaugh — the  first 
from  Georgia,  the  second  from  Vir- 
ginia, and  the  third  from  Kentucky 
— represented  the  different  parts  of 
the  Church  territorially,  and  consti- 
tuted a  trinity  of  talent  and  individ- 
uality truly  extraordinary. 

From  this  time  forward  the  fame 
of  the  great  Kentucky  preacher  be- 
came connectional.  His  career  was 
a  succession  of  pulpit  ovations.  In 
the  social  circle  everywhere  he  ex- 
cited equally  affection  and  admira- 
tion. The  w^hole  Church  claimed 
him  as  a  father  in  God.  The  Ken- 
tuckians  loved  him  as  they  loved  no 
other  man,  and  this  love  for  him  was 
confined  to  no  class  nor  circle,  color 
nor  creed.  There  was  a  singular 
friendship  between  him  and  Thom- 
as F.   Marshall,  the  brilliant   Ken- 

267* 


•ffijubbarJ)  Ibin&e  IRavanaugb. 

tuckian,  who  was  one  of  a  countless 
list  of  victims  to  the  devil's  own  po- 
tent agency  for  the  murder  of  men's 
bodies  and  souls — alcohol. 

During  the  war  between  the 
States  Bishop  Kavanaugh  came  to 
California  at  the  earnest  request  of 
the  Pacific  Conference.  He  was 
the  only  bishop  accessible  at  the 
time,  all  the  rest  being  within  the 
lines  of  the  Confederate  armies. 
While  attending  a  camp  meeting  in 
the  San  Joaquin  valley  he  was  ar- 
rested by  a  provost  marshal,  with 
orders  to  bring  him  to  the  military 
headquarters  at  San  Francisco  for 
trial.  Capt.  Jackson,  provost  mar- 
shal of  the  sovithern  district  of  Cal- 
ifornia, hiinself  a  Kentuckian,  made 
the  arrest,  and  discharged  the  duty 
with  all  possible  delicacy  and  gentle- 
ness. When  arraigned  before  Gen. 
Mason,  assistant  provost  marshal 
for  the  Pacific  Coast,  he  was  no- 
tified that  the  complaints  against 
him   were :  "  First,  that   he   was   a 

268 


•QJubDarJ)  IDinDe  IRavanaugb. 

-citizen  of  the  State  of  Georgia ;  sec- 
ondly, that  he  had  crossed  the  mili- 
tary lines  with  a  pass  from  the  Con- 
federate authorities ;  and  thirdly, 
that  he  was  on  the  Pacific  Coast 
without  any  visible  business."  A 
dangerous  man  to  be  at  large,  truly  ! 
"  These  charges  were  verbally  stat- 
ed," said  the  Bishop.  "  I  was  not 
furnished  with  written  charges  or 
specifications,  nor  with  the  names  of 
my  accuser  or  accusers.  I  did  not 
ask  who  preferred  these  charges. 
Indeed,  I  had  no  desire  to  know  the 
names  of  those  who  set  on  foot  such 
baseless  accusations."  At  the  sug- 
gestion of  Gen.  Mason,  the  Bish- 
op furnished  Gen.  McDowell  a  writ- 
ten statement  of  the  facts  in  the 
case,  showing  that  he  was  not  a  cit- 
izen of  Georgia,  that  he  had  not 
crossed  the  military  lines  with  a  pass 
from  the  Confederate  authorities, 
and  that  he  was  on  the  Pacific  Coast 
on  Church  business  strictly.  He 
said : 

269 


DuDbaro  IDinDe  Ikavanaugb. 

I  came  here  on  this  business  alone, 
and  on  no  mission  either  directly  or  indi- 
rectl}"^  connected  with  politics  or  the  war, 
and  least  of  all  to  stir  up  dissension  or  en- 
courage opposition  to  the  government  or 
laws.  Residing,  as  I  do,  in  Kentucky, 
where  great  diversity  of  opinion  prevails 
in  regard  to  the  war,  I  have  deemed  it 
my  duty  as  a  minister  of  the  gospel  not 
only  to  abstain  from  participating  in  po- 
litical affairs,  but,  on  the  contrary,  to  mit- 
igate as  far  as  practicable  the  asperity  of 
feeling  which  prevails  so  widely  in  that 
State.  I  have  deemed  mine  to  be  a  mis- 
sion of  love  and  peace,  and  have  so  act- 
ed, both  here  and  there.  So  far  as  I 
know,  my  conduct  has  never  been  ques- 
tioned by  the  military  authorities  of  Ken- 
tucky, where  I  have  lived  so  long  and 
am  so  widely  known,  nofwdthstanding 
the  intense  excitement  which  has  pre- 
vailed in  that  State.  Under  these  cir- 
cumstances I  find  myself,  comparatively 
a  stranger  on  this  coast  and  far  from 
home,  suddenly  arraigned  before  the  mil- 
itary authorities  on  charges  preferred  by 
persons  Avholly  unknown  to  me.  That 
I  am  deeply  pained  by  this  proceeding, 
I  candidly  confess;  not  so  much  because 
of  any  injury  to  myself  as  because  of  the 
reproach  it  brings  on  my  sacred  calling 
270 


IbubbarD  1bin&e  IRavanaugFj. 

and  on  the  Church  with  which  I  am 
connected.  I  acknowledge,  however, 
with  pleasure,  the  courtesy  which  has 
been  extended  to  me  by  all  the  officers 
connected  Avith  the  affair. 

It  is  safe  to  say  that  every  officer 
of  the  army  who  came  in  contact 
with  the  genial,  magnetic,  and  grand 
old  bishop  thought  better  and  not 
worse  of  his  religion,  and  retained  a 
lifelong,  pleasurable  memory  of  the 
man  himself.  It  was  characteristic 
of  the  Bishop  that  he  requested  per- 
mission to  fulfill  his  promise  to 
preach  on  the  day  of  his  arrest,  and 
did  preach  one  of  his  grandest  ser- 
mons. Capt.  Jackson,  the  provost 
marshal,  declared  it  to  be  one  of 
the  most  eloquent  discourses  he 
ever  heard.  It  is  also  a  character- 
istic fact  that  he  did  not  wish  to 
know  the  name  of  his  false  accuser, 
of  whom  he  always  spoke  pitying- 
ly rather  than  resentfully.  If  all 
our  leaders  in  Church  and  State  had 
been  as  discreet,  patriotic,  and 
Christlike  as  he,  not  a  drop  of  fra- 
R  271 


IbubbarD  IbinDc  Ikavanausb. 

ternal  blood  would  have  been  shed 
in  the  settlement  of  the  questions 
that  brought  on  the  war. 

Bishop  Kavanaugh  loved  Califor- 
nia, notwithstanding  this  peculiar 
episode.  His  first  visit  was  made 
in  1856.  After  hearing  two  of  his 
sermons  in  San  Francisco  during  the 
summer  of  that  year,  the  editor  of 
the  California  Christian  Advocate 
said  : 

He  has  now  spent  two  Sabbaths  in  San 
Francisco,  and  in  each  instance  has  occu- 
pied the  pulpits  of  the  Methodist  Episco- 
pal churches.  His  discourses  have  been 
marked  by  purity  of  sentiment,  felicity  of 
expression,  beauty  and  force  of  illustra- 
tion, and  a  most  refreshing  unction.  His 
claim  to  the  apostolic  succession  is  valifl, 
and  his  labors  among  us  have  heightened 
our  estimate  of  "  Christianity  in  earnest" 
as  a  divinely  instituted  agency  for  the 
saving  of  men.  He  is  doing  the  work  of 
an  evangelist  in  the  Stats,  everywhere 
diffusing  the  savor  of  a  kindly  Christian 
influence,  tending  to  the  harmony  and 
consequent  efficiency  of  Methodism  in 
the  land. 

272 


IbubbarD  IbinDe  IRavanaugb. 

The  foregoing  words  from  the 
editor  of  the  organ  of  our  sister 
Methodist  Church  truly  and  moder- 
ately state  what  might  be  said  of 
his  entire  record  of  service  during 
his  visits  to  the  Pacific  Coast. 

A  lady  who  was  a  fellow-traveler 
with  the  Bishop  and  his  wife  on  his 
last  visit  to  California  gave  some 
lifelike  touches  in  a  letter  to  the 
Louisville  Cotirier-Jotirnal^  which 
the  reader  will  relish  : 

My  nearest  car  neighbor  is  a  very  stout, 
smooth-faced  gentleman,  with  grayish- 
brown  hair,  which  is  cut  short  and  stands 
like  the  quills  of  the  fretful  porcupine. 
He  has  a  big  nose,  small  eyes,  and  heavy 
jaws.  His  small  hands  rest  upon  a  gold- 
headed  cane,  and  much  of  the  time  he  is 
apparently'  in  deep  thought.  He  is  very 
gentle  and  unassuming  in  his  manners. 
By  his  side  is  a  tiny  lady  with  silvery 
curls  about  her  face.  She  is  handsomely 
dressed,  and  has  a  bright  smile  for  every 
one;  but  the  big  man  at  her  side  is  evi- 
dently her  chief  care  and  pride.  She  is 
never  still  a  moment.  She  brushes  his 
coat  with  her  little  gloved  hand;  she 
pours  cologne  on  a  handkerchief  and 
IS  273 


ijubbarD  IbinDe  IRavanaugb. 

waves  it  about  as  if  to  fumigate  him;  she 
spies  a  sunbeam  that  is  about  to  find  its 
way  to  her  husband's  thoughtful  eyes, 
and  instantly  it  is  put  outside  the  blind. 
When  the  little  lunch  table  is  set  up  in 
the  sleeper  she  tucks  a  napkin  about  him, 
butters  his  bread,  puts  jelly  upon  it,  pats 
it  gently  with  the  knife  before  she  gives 
it  to  him.  The  whole  repast  is  in  honor 
of  her  husband,  and  every  delicacy  is 
heaped  upon  him.  This  makes  me  think 
of  a  humming  bird  and  a  pumpkin  blos- 
som. Large  and  open-hearted  and  gold- 
en-hearted is  the  flower,  also  the  bishop. 
The  pumpkin  blossom  is  not  swayed,  like 
the  frail  morning-glory,  with  every  pass- 
ing breeze,  but  firm  and  very  lowly, 
and  almost  hidden  by  the  leaves  of  its 
humility,  it  blooms  close  to  our  feet,  un- 
conscious that  it  is  the  largest  and  most 
royal  flower  in  the  garden. 

The  poetry  and  the  realism  in  this 
bit  of  description  give  it  equal  charm 
and  value. 

He  seemed  almost  to  have  learned 
the  secret  of  perpetual  youth.  At 
the  age  of  seventy-one  years  there 
vs^as  scarcely  a  gray  hair  upon  his 
head.      When     his     attention     was 

274 


IbubbarD  Ibin&e  IRavanaugb. 

called  to  this  fact  he  retorted,  "  I 
suppose  I  was  born  so  green  that  it 
takes  me  a  long  time  to  season" — 
his  kindly  face  beaming  and  his  am- 
ple frame  shaking  with  merriment. 
On  his  eightieth  birthday  he  ^vas  vis- 
ited by  a  goodly  number  of  his  min- 
isterial brethren  in  Louisville,  Ky. 
The  reporter  of  a  secular  newspa- 
paper  says  : 

In  reply  to  their  affectionate  greetings 
and  kindly  congratulations,  he  responded 
in  a  brief  but  touching  speech,  in  which 
he  declared  that  he  prized  this  testimonial 
the  more  highly  as  it  came  from  brethren 
who  were  his  neighbors,  and  had  known 
him  so  long  and  well,  and  for  every  one 
of  whom  he  felt  a  loving  concern.  Ken- 
tuckj'  Methodist  preachers  and  their  fam- 
ilies had  so  long  been  objects  of  special 
interest  to  nim  that  he  knew  but  little 
difference  between  them  and  his  own 
family,  and  from  them  he  had  never  been, 
nor  ever  could  be,  separated  by  time  nor 
distance  nor  official  position  nor  aught 
else.  He  adverted  to  his  advanced  age, 
and  referred  to  his  robust  health  and  al- 
most entire  exemption  from  the  infirmi- 
ties incident  to  his  period  of  life,  for 
275 


IbubbarD  IbtnDe  IRavanaugb. 

which  he  thanked  God,  chiefly  because 
he  was  thus  enabled  to  do  more  for  the 
Master,  in  whose  service  he  found  con- 
stantly increasing  delight.  He  spoke  of 
his  personal  religious  experience  as  all 
the  while  deepening  and  broadening  and 
brightening,  and  as  having  become  an  as- 
sured conviction,  full  of  the  joy  inspired 
by  the  expectation  ol  entering  soon  upon 
eternal  life.  The  simplicity  and  sincerity 
and  earnestness  with  which  these  things 
were  said,  together  with  the  Bishop's  es- 
tablished reputation  for  integrity  and 
piety,  so  well  known  to  his  brethren,  gave 
great  weight  to  these  utterances,  and 
wrought  the  company  up  to  a  pitch  of 
godly  enthusiasm  that  burst  forth  in  the 
singing  of  a  thrilling  stanza  from  the 
hymn  "A  Home  over  There." 

He  preached  his  last  sermon,  as 
he  did  his  first,  in  a  Presbyterian 
Chm-ch — the  Lafayette  Presbyteri- 
an Church,  New  Orleans,  Rev.  Dr. 
Markham  pastor.  This  was  on 
February  lo,  1884.  Dr.  Markham, 
in  an  account  of  the  occasion,  says  : 

Short   of   stature    and    round  and  full 
in  person,    the     embodiment     of    sturdy 
strength,  this  veteran  of  sixty  campaigns 
276 


IbubbarO  ibin&e  IRavanaugb. 

"wielded  his  weapons  with  the  vigor  and 
force  of  a  warrior  in  his  prime,  striking 
blows  that  divided  asunder  the  joints  of 
the  harness  of  doubt  and  error.  .  .  . 
In  appearance  and  action  twenty  .years 
younger  than  the  age  whicli  time  has 
"  set  to  his  score,"  his  bow  abides  in 
strength,  and,  save  in  a  slowness  of  step, 
due,  doubtless,  in  no  small  measure,  to 
an  unusual  weight  of  body,  scarce  a  trace 
of  the  "labor  and  sorrow"  of  the  four- 
score can  be  seen.  So  that  he  still  brings 
forth  fruit  in  old  age.  He  began  the 
sermon  with  a  deliberation  of  speech  and 
a  quietness  of  manner  that  made  the 
outset  seem  subdued  and  slow,  but  which 
soon  rose  into  a  glow,  which,  sustained 
through  an  hour  and  a  quarter  of  earnest 
utterance  and  animated  movement — un- 
helped  by  manuscript  or  note — arrested 
and  fixed  the  attention  of  the  well-iilled 
house,  in  which  young  and  old  sat  inter- 
ested, instructed,  and  refreshed;  the 
thoughts  so  clear  and  the  words  so  plain 
that  the  young  in  their  teens  easily  ap- 
prehend all  that  Avas  said;  while  the  rich, 
fresh  matter,  the  simple,  chaste  style,  and 
the  direct  and  pointed  manner  made  the 
mature  and  aged  listen  with  profit  and 
delight.  .  .  .  The  Methodist  Church 
is  to  be  congratulated  in  that,  through 
277 


IbubbarD  IDtnDe  ikavanaugb. 

the  thirty  years  of  his  itinerancy  and  the 
thirty  years  of  his  episcopate,  his  labors 
covering  her  extended  territory  from  the 
Atlantic  to  the  Pacific  (including  five 
episcopal  visits  to  California),  her  people 
have  had  the  benefit  and  blessing  of  the 
teachings  of  one  so  manifestly  "anointed 
and  set  apart,"  to  whom  the  Spirit  has  re- 
vealed the  deep  things,  opening  his  un- 
derstanding and  warming  his  heart  to  set 
forth  with  power  the  mysteries  of  the 
kingdom  of  grace  and  the  anticipation  of 
the  kingdom  of  glory. 

That  was  his  last  sermon.  The 
next  Sunday  he  was  at  Ocean 
Springs,  where  he  had  an  engage- 
ment to  preach  that  day.  After 
the  opening  exercises  he  announced 
his  text :  "  For  our  light  affliction, 
which  is  but  for  a  moment,  worketh 
for  us  a  far  more  exceeding  and  eter- 
nal weight  of  glory."  (2  Cor.  iv.  17.) 
As  was  his  habit,  he  read  his  text 
a  second  time.  After  a  few  mo- 
ments' pause,  he  asked  for  a  glass 
of  water  and  referred  to  his  ex- 
hausted condition,  and  then  he  read 
his  text    for  the  third  time.     Find- 

278 


DubbarD  •tt)tnDc  IRavanaugb. 

ing  that  he  was  unable  to  proceed, 
he  sunk  into  his  seat.  After  a  few 
days  of  suffering,  interspersed  with 
brief  intervals  of  relief,  during  which 
he  was  always  patient  and  at  times 
even  playful  and  witty,  he  "fell  on 
sleep,"  and  awoke  in  the  world  of 
spirits. 

He  was  buried  at  Louisville,  Ky,, 
and  was  mourned  by  the  whole 
Church  Here  this  sketch  may  fit- 
ly close  with  a  few  sentences  taken 
from  the  tributes  paid  to  his  mem- 
ory by  brethren  who  spoke  for  the 
whole  Methodist  commimion  and  a 
great  company  beyond  : 

Kentucky  has  had  many  great  states- 
men, men  of  wonderful  reputation,  great 
scientists,  great  citizens.  I  hesitate  not  to 
say  that  we  bury  to-day  the  most  eminent 
and  useful  citizen  with  which  God  ever 
blessed  the  commonwealth.  Think  of 
this  holy,  devotional  life,  running  through 
sixty-one  years,  light  in  darkness,  sweet- 
ening bitterness,  leading  men  to  God! 
Kentucky  had  this  light  for  sixty  years. 
No  man  can  put  a  finger  on  a  single  spot 
279 


IbubbarJ)  IbtnDe  Iftavanaugb. 

of  his  record  and  say  that  it  is  faulty.  You 
will  feel  jour  loss  more  to-morrow  than 
to-day,  and  more  next  month,  and  in  the 
time  to  come  your  full  loss  will  be  known. 
It  seems  to  me  that  our  brother  could  have 
fitly  spoken  the  words  of  Samuel's  fare- 
well speech;  and  when  he  had  spoken 
those  words,  had  you  answered,  you  would 
have  had  to  answer  as  the  children  of  Is- 
rael did. — Bishop  McTyeire' s  Funeral  Ser- 
mon. 

Bishop  Kavanaugh  never  seemed  to  be 
harassed  by  evil  passions  or  unhappy 
thoughts,  but  was  uniformly  bright  and 
genial.  As  a  pulpit  orator  he  was  incom- 
parable.— Dr.  John  B.  McFerrin. 

He  being  dead  yet  speaketh.  His 
work  abides.  The  memory  of  the 
just  shall  be  blessed. 

280 


BISHOP  GEORGE  F,  PIERCE. 

1811-1884. 


AMONG  these  "  Eminent 
Methodists"  surely  he 
should  have  a  place.  In 
temperament,  in  ideas,  in  every- 
thing that  determined  natural  pro- 
clivity and  influenced  his  life,  he 
was  akin  to  the  people  called  Meth- 
odists. The  very  streak  of  Hard- 
shellism  in  his  composition — his 
grandparents  belonged  to  the  strait- 
est  sect  of  that  persuasion — made 
him  the  exponent  of  the  Methodism 
of  his  day  that  had  the  stiffest  back- 
bone and  the  least  tolerance  for  inno- 
vation. At  the  time  when  he  was 
the  most  popular  preacher  in  the 
South  he  was  also  one  of  the  most 
pointed.  When  cultured  men  and 
bejeweled  -women  crowded  to  hear 
him  in  our  chief  cities,  he  enjoined 
humility  of  spirit  and  simplicity  of 
281 


:©i0bop  George  ^,  pierce. 

dress  just  as  if  he  were  talking  to 
men  and  women  clad  in  homespun 
garments  in  the  backwoods.  At 
the  time  when  our  schools  of  liberal 
learning  were  laying  their  honors 
at  his  feet,  he  avo^ved  his  unyield- 
ing hostility  to  theological  schools — 
*'  head  and  heart,  tongvie  and  pen, 
now  and  forever,"  to  use  his  own 
words.  Truly  he  was  a  Hard-shell 
Methodist,  but  with  a  heart  as  warm, 
a  genius  as  brilliant,  and  an  imagi- 
nation as  glowing  as  any  man  of  his 
generation.  His  Church  decided 
against  his  views  on  some  points, 
but  those  who  differed  from  him 
most  widely  would  now  confess  that 
w^hat  they  regarded  as  his  ultracon- 
servatism  came  in  opportunely  as  a 
potent  factor  in  molding  opinion 
and  policy  in  our  Church  at  a  crit- 
ical and  transitional  period  in  its  his- 
tory. He  liked  our  Methodism  as 
it  was,  and  believed  that  changes 
should  be  made  slowly.  "  I  think," 
he  said,  "that  the  Methodist  ministry, 
just  as  it  is,  taken  as  a  whole,  is  the 

282 


aSfsbop  ©eorgc  3f .  fXerce. 

best  in  the  world — and  the  best  be- 
cause it  achieves  on  a  larger  scale 
than  any  other  the  great  ends  of 
gospel  preaching."  He  was  speak- 
ing of  theological  schools. 

His  antagonist  in  this  discussion 
was  Bishop  H.  N.  McTyeire.  It 
was  a  collision  of  giants — the  clear- 
headed, keen-sighted,  far-seeing  pa- 
tron of  learning  and  prophet  of-- 
progress  on  the  one  side,  and  the 
able  and  devout  conservative  and 
leader  of  those  who  were  w^alking 
in  the  old  paths  on  the  other. 

Pierce  and  McTyeire !  Take 
from  the  history  of  our  Church 
what  these  two  men  have  contrib- 
uted to  it,  and  who  could  measure 
the  loss !  They  were  not  chiefs  of 
hostile  bands  in  our  Israel,  but  cap- 
tains of  distinct  corps  of  a  mighty 
host  marching  forward  on  the  same 
general  lines.  The  one  was  for 
West  Point,  with  its  scientific  meth- 
od and  precision ;  the  other,  the  en- 
thusiasm and  dash  of  the  volunteer 
soldierv       The  Church  has  the  a<l- 

283 


JSisbop  ©eorge  3F.  iPlerce. 

vantages  of  both  the  one  view  and 
the  other — the  drill  of  the  school  of 
the  prophets  on  the  one  hand,  and 
the  inspiration  of  the  divine  call  and 
the  momentum  that  carries  the  vol- 
unteer enthusiast  to  victory  against 
odds  seemingly  invincible. 

Pierce  was  the  most  progressive 
of  conservatives  ;  McTyeire  was  the 
-most  cautious  of  progressives. 
There  they  stand  side  by  side.  No 
two  taller  figures  are  seen  among 
the  men  who  led  our  Methodist 
host  in  their  generation.  What  a 
time  it  was  !  — a  time  of  convulsion 
and  change,  of  demolition  and  of  re- 
construction. These  convulsions 
were  an  inheritance  from  an  an- 
cestry who  were  great  and  good, 
but  not  infallible.  They  left  us 
many  blessings  to  enjoy,  with  some 
puzzling  and  painful  problems  to 
solve  both  in  Church  and  State. 

Bishop  Pierce's  ancestry  of  the 
second  g-eneration  belonged  to  the 
Primitive  Baptists,  a  people  who 
believed  in  immersion  and  held  to  a 

284 


JSlsbop  (Beorge  3F.  Ipierce. 

rigid  Calvinism  that  was  closely 
akin  to  fatalism,  holding  that  "  what 
was  to  be  would  be,"  hating  novel- 
ties and  shunning  innovations,  and 
voting  "  the  straight  ticket  "  with- 
out flinching  or  scratching.  They 
were  a  people  who  could  be  trusted 
to  do  the  right  thing  as  they  saw  it. 
Both  friends  and  foes  knew  where 
to  find  them.  They  were  of  a 
sturdy  stock,  and  when  the  freedom 
and  fervor  of  Arminianism  were  en- 
grafted upon  it  the  result  was  a 
type  of  character  combining  some- 
v^^hat  of  the  fortitude  and  persistence 
of  the  fatalist,  w^ith  the  joyfulness 
and  aggressiveness  of  the  soul  that 
thinks  that  there  is  nothing  too  good 
for  God  to  give  to  his  child  and  noth- 
ing too  hard  for  human  effort  backed 
by  God's  promise  and  helped  by  his 
grace.  The  maternal  Foster  strain 
in  his  blood  imparted  an  element 
that  was  as  gentle  and  gracious  as 
the  paternal  element  was  stalv\^art. 
The  Fosters  were  a  family  of  that 
ante  belliiin  South  in  which  there 
285 


Misbov  0eorc?e  3f .  ftierce. 

was  so  rare  a  combination  of  the 
nobility  of  feudal  times  with  the 
simplicity  of  rural  life.  That  old' 
South  ^vas  not  without  its  defects, 
but  it  flowered  into  a  manhood  as 
grand  and  a  womanhood  as  beauti- 
ful as  ever  were  known  in  this  world. 
All  that  is  most  promising  or  pro- 
phetic of  good  in  the  new  South 
has  its  root  in  that  old  South  to 
which  Bishop  Pierce  belonged  and 
of  -which,  vmder  the  grace  of  God,  it 
is  the  product.  (Of  the  Foster  fam- 
ily and  their  relation  to  the  Pierce 
family  the  kindly  reader  is  referred 
to  the  booklet  on  Dr.  Lovick  Pierce, 
to  be  found  elsewhere  in  this  series.) 
George  Foster  Pierce,  the  future 
bishop,  was  born  in  Greene  Coun- 
ty, Ga.,  on  February  4,  181 1.  "It 
was  a  snowy  day,  and  the  snow 
was  on  the  floor  of  the  open  entry 
of  the  double  log  house.  The  old 
Colonel  (Foster)  took  the  babe  and» 
baring  his  tiny  foot,  made  his  foot- 
print on  the  snow."  (Dr.  Smith's 
"Life    of    Bishop    Pierce.")      The 

286 


Msbop  ©cocgc  ff.  ipicrce. 

baby  boy  whose  little  foot  made  that 
imprint  upon  the  dissolving  snow 
the  day  he  was  born  was  destined  to 
make  lasting  impressions  for  good 
on  thousands  of  human  souls  and 
to  leave  his  influence  so  deeply 
marked  upon  the  history  of  his 
times  that  it  will  never  be  effaced. 

When  six  years  old  the  boy  was 
started  to  school.  His  teacher,  Mrs. 
Scott,  was  proud  of  her  bright 
young  pupil,  who  went  at  once  to 
the  head  of  his  class.  When  he  was 
a  little  older  Mr.  Scott  became  his 
teacher.  He  was  a  famous  teacher 
for  his  day.  One  thing  about  him 
his  pupils  seemed  never  to  forget. 
*'  The  pupil  was  at  liberty  to  do  what 
he  pleased,  but  he  had  to  have  his 
lesson.  When  the  lesson  was  not 
perfect,  Mr.  Scott  had  a  good  sup- 
ply of  hickory  and  the  muscle  to 
use  it.  As  a  restdt^  the  lessons 
were  generally  perfect.''''  This  is 
the  Bishop's  own  testimony,  and  he 
knew  whereof  he  affirmed.  Both 
his  father  and  his  teacher  seem  to 

S  287 


:J8tsbop  ©corae  ff.  IPierce. 

have  adopted  the  view  of  family 
and  school  discipline  expressed  in 
the  thirteenth  chapter  of  the  book 
of  Proverbs  at  the  twenty-fourth 
verse.  The  bright,  handsome,  in- 
genuous boy  was  none  the  worse  for 
this,  and  had  no  resentment  in  his 
heart  in  later  years.  Those  hickory 
switches  wielded  by  the  exacting 
and  muscular  pedagogue  may  have 
helped  to  quicken  his  intellect  into 
activity,  and  his  conscience  as  well, 
but  did  not  repress  his  good  humor 
nor  weaken  his  will  power. 

The  mother  of  George  taught 
him  the  Wesleyan  Catechism — that 
good  old  catechism  that  called  things 
by  their  right  names  and  kept  in 
the  middle  of  the  clear  current  of 
Arminlan  theology.  Family  prayer 
was  held  daily  night  and  morning. 
George  was  full  of  fun,  but  was 
never  profane,  low,  or  indecent  in 
speech.  He  loved  a  horse,  and  was 
a  fearless  rider,  a  first  -  rate  shot 
with  a  rifle,  and  very  fond  of  fish- 
ing. He  had  a  healthy  boy's  appe- 
288 


©Isbop  ©eorgc  J.  pierce. 

tite.  Every  mother  of  boys  knows 
■what  that  means.  He  did  not  like 
the  study  of  arithmetic,  but  Mr. 
Scott's  pecuHar  style  of  persuasion 
caused  him  to  make  such  progress 
therein,  as  well  as  in  other  studies, 
that  he  was  prepared  to  enter  Frank- 
lin College  when  in  his  sixteenth 
year.  He  was  at  this  time  a  manly 
youth,  a  leader  in  sports  suitable  to 
his  age,  and  most  of  the  time  stood 
at  the  head  of  his  class. 

Franklin  College  was  the  only 
school  of  that  rank  in  the  State  of 
Georgia.  Dr.  Moses  Waddell  was 
its  President.  Among  his  pupils 
were  John  C.  Calhoun,  Williain  H. 
Crawford,  George  McDuffie,  A.  B. 
Longstreet,  Howell  Cobb,  and 
Robert  Toombs.  How  much  George 
Pierce  owed  first  to  Mr.  Scott,  his 
early  preceptor,  and  next  to  Dr. 
Waddell,  cannot  be  computed.  The 
second  year  after  he  entered  Frank- 
lin College  Dr.  Stephen  Olin  be- 
came Professor  of  Ethics  and  Met- 
aphysics—  "an  event,"  says  Dr. 
(19)      ir^  289 


Bisbop  (Beorge  3F.  iPJcrce. 

Smith,  "  which  had,  perhaps,  as- 
much  to  do  with  the  intellectual  fu- 
ture of  the  lad  as  any  other  event 
in  his  early  history."  The  writer's 
pen  pauses  at  the  name  of  Dr.  Olin 
— a  name  that  blazes  like  a  ball  of 
fire  in  the  firmament  of  Methodist 
worthies  of  his  time.  So  lofty  was 
his  character,  so  complete  was  his 
mastery  of  himself,  so  unfailing- 
was  he  in  the  soundness  of  his 
judgment,  so  steadfast  was  he  in 
his  convictions,  and  at  the  same  time 
so  broad  were  his  sympathies,  that 
when  by  the  force  of  circumstances 
Episcopal  Methodism  was  divided 
on  a  constitutional  issue  and  a  geo- 
graphical line,  he  stood  among  the 
determined  yet  sorrowful  combat- 
ants the  partisan  of  neither  party, 
but  the  exponent  of  the  noblest  and 
most  magnanimous  sentiment  of 
both.  Stephen  Olin  touched  George 
Pierce's  life  at  the  time  when  it  was 
most  plastic,  and  it  is  safe  to  say 
that  his  higher  nature  was  thereby 
enriched  forever. 

290 


asisbop  ©eorae  3F.  Pierce. 

The  most  momentous  event  in 
George  Pierce's  life — his  conversion 
— was  on  this  wise  :  A  young  Baptist 
preacher,  whose  name  is  not  given 
in  the  record  which  is  liere  followed, 
began  among  the  students  a  prayer 
meeting  which  drew  the  thought- 
ful and  more  serious  ones  under  its 
influence.  Dr.  Lovick  Pierce  was 
the  Methodist  preacher  in  charge  of 
the  Athens  station,  and  Thomas 
Samford  was  the  presiding  elder  of 
the  district.  A  protracted  meeting 
was  begun.  The  Rev.  Joseph  C. 
Stiles,  a  young  Presbyterian  preach- 
er, a  mighty  man  in  his  own  denom- 
ination, who  had  himself  been  con- 
verted under  the  ministry  of  the 
saintly  John  Howard  in  the  city  of 
Savannah,  and  had  given  himself  to 
special  work  in  revivals,  also  came 
to  the  help  of  those  engaged  in  the 
meeting.  Under  this  threefold  evan- 
gelistic leadership  the  revival  swept 
the  college  community — Stiles,  the 
Presbyterian  convert  of  the  quaint 
and  devout  Methodist  Howard,  tak- 

291 


IBisbov  OcovQC  3F.  ipiercc. 

ing  a  very  active  part  in  the  serv- 
ices. Among  the  converts  was 
George  Pierce.  Long  before,  the 
seeds  of  heavenly  truth  had  been 
sown  in  his  soul,  and  the  revival 
brought  the  touch  that  quickened 
them  into  birth.  His  conviction 
was  thorough  and  his  conversion 
clear.  Under  sound  religious  teach- 
ing he  did  not  seek  for  joy,  but  for 
pardon,  peace,  and  a  pure  heart, 
and  he  found  what  he  sought.  He 
had  gone  forward  and  knelt  for 
prayer  at  the  chancel,  and  had  re- 
sumed his  seat  near  a  window  in 
the  church  when  he  felt  the  con- 
sciousness that  Jesus  was  his  Sav- 
iour. With  him  svirrender  and  ac- 
ceptance were  coetaneous.  Saving 
faith — that  choice  of  the  will  that 
translates  faith  in  the  abstract  into 
faith  in  the  concrete — made  Jesus, 
the  Saviour  of  all  men  in  general, 
his  special  personal  Saviour  then 
and  there.  The  peace  of  God,  a 
peace  that  w^as  sweet  and  holy,  stole 
into  his  soul.     To  his  father,  who 

292 


JBisbop  (3eorge  af .  Ipiercc. 

was  near  at  hand,  he  first  spoke  of 
the  blessing  he  had  gotten.  Tak- 
ing the  young  convert  by  the  hand, 
the  father  with  a  glad  heart  led  him 
to  his  mother.  Then  followed  a 
scene.  The  sweet-souled  mother's 
heart  overflowed  with  sacred  joy — 
yes,  overflowed— and  she  shouted 
aloud  the  praises  of  God.  Many 
voices  joined  in  her  thanksgiving, 
and  there  was  a  "  holy  uproar " 
among  those  happy  Baptists,  Pres- 
byterians, and  Methodists  in  that 
good  old  college  town  of  Athens. 
In  those  days  it  "was  not  considered 
improper  for  Methodists  thus  to 
praise  God  aloud  when  they  felt  like 
it.  And  they  did  often  feel  like  it, 
for  cold  conventionality  and  frigid 
formalism  \vere  at  a  discount.  They 
did  not  shout  "  from  a  sense  of 
duty."  They  were  a  victorious  army 
on  the  march,  shouting  and  singing 
as  they  went.  Their  children  and 
successors  may  have  gained  in  some 
things,  as  the  world  counts  gain, 
but  that  they  are  more  intelligent  in 


JSisbop  George  3F.  pierce. 

their  beliefs,  more  earnest  in  their 
convictions,  more  consistent  as  prac- 
tical Christians,  and  more  success- 
ful in  aggressive  effort,  who  will 
aflirm  ? 

Bishop  Pierce's  conversion  was 
attended  with  no  small  stir,  and  to 
the  end  of  his  life  he  was  never  dis- 
concerted or  displeased  at  any  man- 
ifestation of  genuine  religious  en- 
thusiasm. He  told  with  confidence 
what  he  had  felt  and  seen.  The 
blessedness  of  the  salvation  that  he 
described  so  thrillingly  was  the 
expression  of  personal  experiences. 
He  -v^^as  a  typical  Methodist  preach- 
er of  the  highest  grade,  because  he 
had  a  typical  religious  experience 
on  the  old  lines  of  a  present,  free, 
full,  conscious  salvation  through 
faith  in  the  Lord  Jesvis  Christ.  The 
w^riter  heard  him  in  California  in 
1858  preach  from  the  text :  "  Where 
the  Spirit  of  the  Lord  is,  there  is 
liberty."  (3  Cor.  iii.  17.)  There 
could  not  be  a  more  perfect  illustra- 
tion of  his  theme  than  that  wonder- 

294 


JSisbop  (3eorge  3F.  Ipicrce. 

ful  sermon.  The  whole  discourse 
seemed  to  be  pitched  on  the  plane 
of  the  supernatural  in  a  sense  sober- 
ly scriptural.  It  was  an  argument 
for  the  divinity  of  the  gospel  of 
Christ.  The  loftiness  of  his 
thought,  the  music  of  his  voice,  the 
rhythm  of  his  periods,  the  illumina- 
tion that  was  on  his  face,  made  an 
impression  and  left  a  memory  never 
to  be  lost.  He  had  "  liberty  "  in  the 
pulpit  that  day,  true  gospel  liberty 
— that  something  in  his  sermon  that 
no  natural  gifts  or  acquired  arts  of 
merely  human  eloquence  could  pro- 
duce. On  another  occasion  during 
the  same  year  he  had  gone  into  the 
pulpit  hurried  and  worried  to  the 
last  moment  by  a  press  of  callers. 
The  sermon  he  preached  did  not 
lack  in  intellectual  power  or  grace- 
ful and  vigorous  elocution,  but  it 
did  lack  that  one  element  that  dif- 
ferentiates mere  oratory  from  that 
preaching  which  is  in  demonstration 
of  the  Spirit.  He  felt  that  he  had 
failed,  and  he  knew  the  cause.     As 

2  295 


JSisbop  ©eorge  af.  pierce. 

we  left  the  church  and  started 
home^vard,  he  said,  sighing  as  he 
spoke  :  "  Fitzgerald,  I  cannot  fr  each 
unless  I  am  haffy  in  GodP  Hap- 
py in  God  !  There  is  half  a  course 
in  practical  homiletics  in  the  w^ords. 
They  have  never  been  forgotten. 

He  finished  his  college  course  and 
took  his  degree  in  August,  1829, 
when  in  his  nineteenth  year.  For 
two  years  past  a  struggle  had  been 
going  on  in  his  soul  over  the  ques- 
tion whether  or  not  he  was  called 
of  God  to  preach  the  gospel.  He 
had  told  no  one  of  this  inward 
conflict,  but  fought  his  battle  in  si- 
lence against  opposing  impulses  and 
influences.  Doubting  his  "  call  " — 
the  men  of  that  day  had  very  defi- 
nite opinions  with  reference  to  a 
divine  call  to  the  ministry,  and  were 
not  afraid  to  use  the  word — he  be- 
gan to  read  law.  But  Blackstone 
was  insipid  to  him.  He  was  dissat- 
isfied, and  it  seemed  to  him  that  des- 
pite his  regular  attendance  upon 
public  worship    and    use   of  all  the 

296 


JSisbop  (Beorge  3f.  pierce. 

means  of  grace,  his  heart  grew 
harder  and  colder  all  the  time.  One 
day  after  vainly  trying  to  become 
interested  in  the  reading  of  his  law 
book,  he  rose  from  his  chair  and, 
laying  down  the  book,  exclaimed ; 
"  I'll  quit  this,  anyhow  !  "  And  he 
did.  Then  he  soiight  to  divert  his 
mind  by  keeping  the  liveliest  com- 
pany he  could  find  among  the  fam- 
ilies of  the  town.  But  the  feeling 
of  unrest  remained  in  his  heart. 
An  interview  with  James  O.  An- 
drew, afterwards  bishop,  brought 
him  to  a  final  decision.  "  My  young 
friend,"  said  Bishop  Andrew,  "  was 
exceedingly  frank  in  his  communi- 
cation with  me,  and  received  all  I 
said  very  kindly.  Our  conversa- 
tion was  close  and  honest,  but  very 
friendly,  and  I  left  him  without 
knowing  what  might  be  the  result. 
In  a  week  or  two,  however,  he  told 
me  that  God  had  sanctified  that  in- 
terview to  his  good,  and  that  it  had 
awakened  him  to  a  sense  of  his  real 
condition  and  duty,  and  from  that 
1**  297 


Msbov  (Bcorge  3F.  Ipicrce. 

day  as  long  as  he  lived  he  would 
devote  himself  to  the  service  of  God 
in  the  itinerant  ministry." 

The  vs^ise  and  benignant  An- 
drev^'s  "  close  and  honest "  talk  was 
characteristic.  That  was  his  way. 
It  brought  the  young  man  to  a  de- 
cision. After  sonie  opposition  from 
John  CoUinsworth,  the  preacher  in 
charge  of  the  Appalachee  Circuit, 
because  he  thought  he  was  "  too 
airy  "  in  his  dress,  he  was  licensed 
to  preach  March  38,  1830.  He  was 
admitted  on  trial  into  the  Georgia 
Conference,  which  met  January  5, 
1831. 

He  had  found  his  vocation,  and 
great  was  his  joy.  Preaching  the 
gospel  was  a  delight  to  him.  In 
stirring  up  this  gift  of  God  that 
was  in  him  he  fovuid  the  blessed- 
ness and  glory  of  his  life,  as  every 
man  does  who  obeys  the  will  of 
God  as  it  is  indicated  by  the  lead- 
ings of  his  Spirit  and  the  indications 
of  his  providence.  He  preached 
everv  day,  and  often  at  night.      His 


:fi3isbop  (Bcorge  3F.  ipierce. 

circuit  began  in  Jasper  County,  in- 
cluded a  considerable  part  of  New- 
ton, all  of  Putnam,  and  all  of  Mor. 
gan,  and  had  twenty-eight  separate 
preaching  places.  He  rode  a  little 
Canadian  pony  that  took  water  like 
a  duck,  and  according  to  the  Bish- 
op's own  statement,  when  in  the 
stream  "  with  his  head  piloting 
above  the  water,  his  tail  spread  out 
like  a  fan,  not  more  than  one-third 
of  his  body  would  sink  in  the  wa- 
ter, so  that  the  saddlebags  would 
never  get  wet." 

The  young  circuit  rider's  reputa- 
tion rose  rapidly.  He  learned  to 
preach  by  preaching.  He  began 
his  career  as  a  preacher  at  a  time 
when  a  mighty  tide  of  religious 
feeling  was  sweeping  over  Georgia, 
and  he  rode  its  topmost  w^ave.  The 
Methodist  preachers  of  that  day 
were  a  peculiar  people,  heroic  and 
devout,  men  of  mighty  faith,  who 
feared  not  the  face  of  man  and 
shunned  not  to  declare  the  whole 
counsel     of     God.       They     claimed 

299 


3BiBbop  (SeotQC  3f .  iPiercc. 

Pentecostal  enduement,  expected  suc- 
cess, and  had  it. 

During  the  first  eight  years  of 
his  ministry  he  preached  fifteen 
hundred  sermons,  and  was  then 
only  t^venty-eight  years  old.  In 
city,  village,  or  country,  the  people 
crowded  to  hear  him  as  they  did  no 
other  man,  and  revival  fires  blazed 
everywhere  in  his  track.  It  is  safe 
to  say  that  no  young  preacher  in 
our  country  ever  won  so  large  a 
reputation  in  so  short  a  time,  or 
maintained  it  with  steady  increase 
so  long.  For  fifty  years  his  power 
to  draw  and  move  the  masses  never 
failed.  The  fruits  of  his  ministry 
cannot  be  measured  this  side  of  the 
judgment  da}-.  He  "vvas  College 
President,  College  Agent,  and  edi- 
tor of  a  sinall  monthly  periodical 
that  had  a  short  life  and  died  a  nat- 
ural death.  He  did  good  w^ork  as 
President  first  of  the  Georgia  Fe- 
male College  at  Macon,  and  after- 
wards as  President  of  Emory  Col- 
lege   at    Oxford.      But    his    college 

300 


Msbov  (3eorge  S".  Ipierce. 

work  was  a  mere  side  issue  \vith 
him.  He  never  liked  it,  and  only 
took  it  up  from  a  sense  of  duty  at 
the  call  of  the  Church.  It  is  a  sig- 
nificant fact  in  this  connection  that 
during  the  time  of  his  presidency 
of  the  Georgia  Female  College  he 
was  the  chief  instrument  of  a  great 
revival  in  the  city  of  Macon,  Dur- 
ing this  meeting  he  preached  the 
terrors  of  the  divine  la%v  in  such  a 
viSLj  that  the  editor  of  a  Universal- 
ist  newspaper  declared  that  he  could 
smell  fire  and  brimstone  a  mile  from 
the  church !  In  a  special  sermon  to 
business  men  he  drew  a  picture  of 
a  covetous  Church  member  and 
tricky  member  of  the  cotton  ex- 
change "  riding  to  hell  astride  of  a 
cotton  bale."  That  one  sermon,  it 
was  said  at  the  time,  w^rought  a  ref- 
ormation in  the  ethics  of  the  cotton 
trade  in  that  good  old  city  of  Ma- 
con on  the  Ocmulgee. 

While  President  of  Emory  Col- 
lege the  college  prospered  and  he 
was    officially    popular ;    but    there, 

301 


IflSfsbop  0corge  3F.  IPfcrcc. 

as  everywhere  else,  the  preaching 
function  overrode  every  other.  He 
preached  every  Sunday  and  with 
undiminished  power.  The  college 
grew  in  patronage  and  in  its  re- 
sources under  his  presidency,  but 
most  of  all  in  its  religious  influence. 
He  was  not  less  a  pastor  than  a 
preceptor  of  the  young  men  of  the 
student  body.  W  hat  might  be 
called  a  revival  was  almost  the  nor- 
mal state  of  the  institution  while  he 
was  its  head.  He  did  not  teach 
regularly,  being  often  absent  look- 
ing after  the  financial  interest  of 
the  college,  but  when  present  he 
took  his  regular  turn  in  the  class 
room,  teaching  Moral  Philosophy, 
Rhetoric,  and  Evidences  of  Chris- 
tianit}^  Paradoxical  as  the  words 
may  sound  as  applied  to  him-,  he 
was  almost  a  theological  faculty  in 
himself.  He  was  lenient  in  disci- 
pline, taking  slight  notice  of  slight 
offenses ;  but  that  "  meanness,  ly- 
ing, and  vice  shrank  away  from  his 
presence,"  w^e  may  well  believe, 

:  302 


JBisbop  (3eorae  3P,  fftierce. 

Dr.  W.  C.  Bass,  once  his  student 
and  afterwards  his  successor  as 
President  of  Wesleyan  College, 
says  :  "  His  influence  over  students 
as  a  college  President  can  hardly  be 
estimated.  In  the  pulpit,  in  the 
class  room,  in  the  social  circle,  his 
words  were  full  of  wisdom,  and 
never  failed  to  produce  an  impres- 
sion on  the  young  who  were  fortu- 
nate enough  to  be  under  his  tuition. 
He  was  not  a  teacher  of  text-books 
— that  was  irksome  ^vork  to  him — 
but  he  v^as  a  great  molder  of  char- 
acter, and  never  failed  to  influence 
the  destiny  of  his  pupils.  The  un- 
decided and  wavering  student  was 
stimulated  and  encouraged  —  the 
young  man  pausing  on  life's  thresh- 
old, and  hesitating  as  to  a  vocation, 
found  in  him  a  safe  counselor  and 
friend.  He  seemed  to  knov7  char- 
acter intuitively,  and  could  almost 
prophetically  forecast  the  future  of 
those  committed  to  his  care.  Stvi- 
dents  found  in  him  a  tender  elder 
brother,    symjDathizing     with     their 

T  303 


Blsbop  (3C0XQC  3F.  IPfetce. 

perplexities  and  ever  ready  to  re- 
lieve their  anxieties.  To  poor  young- 
men  he  ^vas  a  Christian  benefactor. 
He  always  had  a  place  for  them  in 
his  heart  and  home." 

His  fame  became  national  in  1844, 
v^hen  he  headed  a  delegation  to  the 
General  Conference  composed  of 
George  F.  Pierce,  William  J.  Parks, 
Lovick  Pierce,  James  E.  Evans, 
and  Augustus  B.  Longstreet.  In 
the  great  debate  on  the  question 
that  led  to  the  separation  of  the 
Methodist  Episcopal  Church  into 
separate  parts  he  made  a  speech  on 
the  Sovithern  (or  constitutional) 
side  that  w^as  electric  in  its  imme- 
diate effects  and  whose  echoes  are 
still  in  the  air. 

He  was  one  of  several  speakers 
at  an  anniversary  meeting  of  the 
American  Bible  Society  held  during 
the  session  of  that  memorable  Gen- 
eral Conference.  The  force  of  his 
argviments,  the  splendor  of  his  dic- 
tion, and  the  charm  of  his  delivery 
were    irresistible.      The    peroration 

304 


JSisbop  (3eovgc  jf.  ipiercc. 

was  as  follows :  "  What,  sir,  was 
the  Reformation  but  the  resurrec- 
tion of  the  Bible?  Cloistered  in 
the  superstitions  of  mediEeval  Rome, 
for  a  thousand  years  its  moral  rays 
had  been  intercepted,  and  the  intel- 
lect of  man,  stricken  at  a  blow 
from  its  pride  of  place,  was  shut 
within  the  dark  walls  of  ixioral  de- 
spair, and  slept  the  sleep  of  death 
beneath  its  wizard  spell.  Opinion 
fled  from  the  chambers  of  the 
heart,  and  left  the  mind  to  darkness 
and  to  change.  But  Luther  un- 
buried  the  Bible  and  its  precepts 
from  its  prison  house,  and  the  Word 
of  God  breathed  the  warm  breath 
of  life  upon  the  Valley  of  Vision 
and  upon  the  sleeping  Lethean  sea. 
Intellect  burst  from  the  trance  of 
ages,  dashed  aside  the  portals  of  her 
dark  dungeon,  felt  the  warm  sun- 
light relax  her  stiffened  limbs, 
forged  her  fetters  into  swords,  and 
fought  her  way  to  freedom  and  to 
fame.  If  you  would  propagate 
Protestantism,    circulate   the    Bible. 

20  305 


JSisbop  (Beorae  3f.  BMercc. 

Let  the  master  give  it  to  the  pupil,^ 
the  professor  to  his  class,  the  fa- 
ther to  the  son,  the  mother  to  her- 
daughter.  Place  it  in  every  home 
in  the  land.  Then  shall  the  love  of 
God  cover  the  earth,  and  the  light 
of  salvation  overlay  the  land  as  the 
sunbeams  of  morning  lie  upon  the 
mountains." 

"Did  you  ever  hear  the  like?" 
asked  Dr.  Jefferson  Hamilton  of 
Dr.  Lovick  Pierce,  the  father  of 
the  speaker,  sitting  by  his  side. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  fond  father  quiet- 
ly ;  "I  hear  George  often." 

The  mutual  admiration  of  the  fa^ 
ther  and  son  was  beautiful  to  see, 
and  gave  no  offense  to  any  gener- 
ous soul. 

The  contemporaries  of  Bishop 
Pierce  applied  to  hiin  all  the  epi- 
thets that  express  admiration.  Sym- 
metry, beauty,  power — these  words, 
describe  him  as  he  was  in  his  prime.. 
He  was  about  five  feet  eight  inches 
in  height,  though  he  seemed  to  be- 
taller,  as  straight  as  an  arrow,  per-- 

306 


asisbop  (3eorgc  3f.  pierce. 

f  ectly  proportioned,  clean  -  limbed, 
deep-chested,  with  lofty  forehead, 
features  of  feminine  delicacy,  yet  of 
masculine  forcefulness  in  the  firmly 
set  under  jaw  and  lips  that  could  be 
compressed  with  decisiveness  as 
they  could  relax  into  a  smile  of 
sweetest  benignity,  dark  eyes  of 
extraordinary  brilliancy,  hair  that 
might  be  called  darkish,  between 
chestnut  and  black  in  color,  features 
so  mobile  that  they  reflected  every 
emotion  of  his  soul,  and  w^hen  under 
the  afflatus  of  the  Holy  Ghost 
clothed  with  a  beauty  and  majesty 
that  was  unearthly  and  indescrib- 
able. The  man  himself  as  he  stood 
before  a  congregation  w^as  a  sermon, 
an  object  lesson  demonstrating  the 
divinity  of  the  gospel  he  preached. 
The  music  of  his  voice  could  never 
be  forgotten  by  any  person  w^ho 
had  once  heard  it.  Even  when  his 
strength  was  broken  and  his  frame 
wasted,  and  he  was  suffering  from 
a  chronic  affection  of  the  throat, 
there  was    in    his  speech   a   melody 

307 


JBisbop  (Seorgc  3F.  pierce. 

and  pathos  that  was  strangely  thrill- 
ing. 

A  friend  and  neighbor  belonging 
to  another  Christian  communion 
thus  speaks  of  him :  "  Of  all  the 
public  men  I  have  known,  Bishop 
Pierce,  considering  his  eminent  great- 
ness, seemed  to  me  the  most  pru- 
dent. This  was  more  remarkable 
in  that  he  was  so  fearless.  No 
knight  of  the  Middle  Ages  was  more 
courageous  in  forming  his  convic- 
tions or  in  supporting  them  by  ac- 
tion and  language.  Yet  he  could 
mingle  amid  those  engaged  in  the 
strifes  of  political  opinions,  and 
never  utter  a  word  or  take  a  step 
that  tended  to  impair  the  benign  in- 
fluence ■which  he  felt  that  Heaven 
had  commissioned  him  to  exert. 
No  party  could  boast  of  him  as  a 
partisan,  and  none  assail  him  as  an 
enemy.  In  this  respect  he  alw^ays 
seemed  not  only  to  be  admired,  but 
wondered  at.  His  presence  upon  the 
street  on  an  election  day,  or  other 
occasion  of    party    gathering,  oper- 

308 


3Bf6bop  ©eorge  3F.  pierce. 

ated  benignly  upon  men  of  all  par- 
ties. He  was  the  most  beautiful  of 
mankind  without,  and  men  of  all 
parties  believed  that  his  external 
beauty  was  the  best  expression  that 
physical  form  and  features  could 
give  of  the  more  exquisite  beauty 
within.  They  loved  to  meet  and 
look  upon  and  talk  with  him,  and 
listen  to  hiixi  as  a  man  whom  they 
knew  to  be  as  consistent  as  he  was 
beautiful,  as  simple  as  he  was  great, 
as  devout  in  heart  as  he  was  ma- 
jestic in  carriage  and  powers.  Of 
the  oratorical  excellence  of  George 
Pierce,  of  course  the  thousands 
who  heard  him  know ;  yet  I  do 
believe  that  his  very  greatest  en- 
deavors ^vere  expended  in  that  same 
little  Sparta  church  [near  his 
home  at  '  Sunnyside  '].  Scores  of 
times  have  I  heard  him  there  dur- 
ing a  period  of  more  than  twenty 
years,  there  and  at  the  Methodist 
camp  meeting  a  few  miles  south  of 
the  village,  in  the  which  time  I  have 
listened  to  outbursts  of  words  such 

309 


^(sbop  ecotQC  3f .  pierce. 

as  I  do  not  believe  were  surpassed 
on  the  bema  of  Athens  or  the  fo- 
rum of  Rome.  Many  a  time  have 
I  looked  and  listened  when  I  could 
have  feared  that  he  must  fall  from 
svich  daringly  lofty,  often  involved, 
eminences,  but  that  the  thrilling  of 
his  voice  and  the  ecstatic  beauty  of 
his  face  told  that  he  felt  conscious 
of  celestial  support.  I  have  heard 
him  preach  sermons  on  occasions  of 
the  death  of  friends  and  Church 
brothers  and  sisters,  while  the  cof- 
fins would  be  resting  in  the  chancel 
below,  when  men's  hair  would  near- 
ly stand  on  end  at  some  of  his 
warnings,  and  they  would  actually 
seem  to  fall  in  love  ^vith  death  while 
he  would  be  describing  the  blessed- 
ness of  those  who  die  in  the  Lord." 
He  was  elected  a  bishop  of  the 
Methodist  Episcopal  Church,  South, 
at  the  General  Conference  held  at 
Columbus,  Ga.,  in  May,  1854.  His 
election  was  a  foregone  conclusion. 
It  only  ratified  the  popular  choice. 
He  was  at  that  time  the  most  pop- 


:©i0bop  (3C0XQC  3F.  fierce. 

Lilar  minister  in  his  own  denomina- 
tion, and  was  regarded  as  the  first 
pulpit  orator  in  the  South.  From 
May,  1S54,  to  August,  1884! 
Preaching  and  traveUng,  travehng 
and  preaching,  with  scarcely  a  break 
for  thirty  years  as  a  chief  pastor  of 
the  Church.  And  such  preaching  ! 
He  subsoiled  our  whole  territory. 
As  he  grew  older  he  was  perhaps 
a  little  less  ornate  and  declamatory 
in  style  ;  but  he  was,  if  possible,  more 
than  ever  a  searcher  of  hearts.  He 
stirred  men's  souls  to  their  deep- 
est depths.  Of  the  stalwart  Meth- 
odism that  we  now  have  in  the 
Church  he  was  one  of  the  chiefest 
seed  sowers.  He  §tood  in  the  old 
paths,  contending  with  terrible  ear- 
nestness for  the  faith  of  our  fathers. 
Wherever  he  went  there  followed 
signs  of  his  apostleship. 

There  was  no  waste  in  his  min- 
istry. By  this  is  meant  that  he  was 
not  turned  aside  from  the  essential 
doctrines  of  Christianity  to  engage 
in  metaphysical  disquisitions,  doubt- 

3  311 


JSiebop  ©eorgc  3F.  Pierce. 

ful  disputations,  or  speculative  the- 
ology. At  one  time  in  his  early 
ministry  he  fell  into  some  of  these 
speculations  for  a  short  time.  For 
example,  the  question  as  to  whether 
the  Divine  Nature  -was  involved  in 
the  vicarious  sufferings  of  Christ 
engaged  his  thought.  But  he  did 
not  w^ander  long  in  the  shadowy 
realm  of  speculation.  "  I  saw,"  he 
said,  "  that  it  would  ruin  me,  and  I 
dropped  it  at  once."  He  used  no 
blank  cartridges  and  never  fired 
into  the  air.  His  aim  and  method 
may  be  profitably  illustrated  here 
by  an  extract  from  an  account  he 
gave  of  a  dedication  sermon  preached 
by  him  at  a  church  :  "  Preaching  at 
a  district  meeting,  with  everybody 
on  fire,  is  a  very  different  thing 
from  one  of  those  special  occasions 
where  all  is  staid  conventionality, 
and  the  church  more  anxious  for  a 
big  collection  than  for  conversions. 
I  felt  it  very  sensibly,  and  fell  ac- 
cordingly. An  old  brother  asked 
me  if  I  always  drove  people  into  as 

312 


JSisbop  (3eorge  ff.  ipiercc. 

close  quarters  as  I  did  that  day.  I 
undertook  to  present  my  views  of 
the  Church,  the  sources  of  its  vital- 
ity, and  the  true  mode  of  its  exten- 
sion and  perpetuation,  with  some 
reasons  for  our  inefficiencies.  I  hit 
right  and  left,  and  especially  at 
those  who  resolve  religion  into  fine 
houses  and  fine  music  and  great 
Sunday, display,  but  have  no  family 
altars,  no  closet  for  prayer,  and 
never  visit  prayer  meetings.  It  was 
gratifying  that  the  spiritual  and  the 
wicked  indorsed  the  truth ;  what 
the  go-betzveens  thought  I  know 
not.  They  were  silent,  whether 
from  wrath  or  from  conviction  I 
cannot  say.  It  is  •  a  fact  that  the 
very  good  and  the  very  wicked  will 
confess  and  approve  the  same  truth, 
while  the  loose,  '  liberal,'  and  fash- 
ionable professor  will  deny,  chafe, 
and  fret." 

It  is  probable  that  he  preached 
more  sermons  to  more  people  than 
any  man  of  his  generation.  Dur- 
ing   the    first    twenty-five    years  of 


JSfsbop  (Beorge  3f .  ipierce. 

his  ministry  he  preached  6,832  ser- 
mons and  traveled  70,000  miles. 
Pause  a  moment  on  these  figvires, 
and  then  think  of  the  other  half  un- 
recorded save  in  the  book  of  God's 
remembrance. 

Elijah  on  Carmel  was  not  more 
faithful  and  fearless  than  was  this 
servant  of  God  in  his  ministrations 
to  the  people  of  all  classes  who 
flocked  to  hear  him.  The  glow 
that  was  in  his  speech  was  that  of 
-real  fire;  the  thunder  peal  of  his 
matchless  eloquence  was  followed 
by  the  lightning  stroke.  Drawn  to 
the  church  by  curiosity  to  hear  the 
great  pulpit  orator,  men  and  \vomen 
went  back  to  their  homes  convicted 
sinners  and  seekers  of  salvation. 
He  tore  the  masks  from  hypocrisy 
in  the  Church,  and  drove  unbelief 
outside  of  it  from  every  refuge  of 
lies.  He  was  within  the  vast  circle 
of  his  activity  and  influence  a  pub- 
lic conscience  incarnate  and  articu- 
late. Every  good  thing  was  stron- 
ger and  every  evil  thing  was  weaker 

314 


aSisbop  ©eorgc  3f.  pierce. 

wherever  he  went.  Even  the  very 
parties  ^vhom  he  excoriated  as  ec- 
clesiastical upstarts  or  bigots  were 
glad  in  their  inner  hearts  that  truth 
and  righteousness  had  an  advocate 
so  gifted  and  so  dauntless  lifting  up 
his  voice  in  the  land.  The  worst 
transgressors  who  quailed  under 
his  terrific  indictment  could  not 
withhold  their  admiration  from  a 
prosecutor  vs^hose  philippics  were 
set  to  music,  and  in  whose  warnings 
were  combined  the  tenderness  of  a 
father  with  the  authority  of  a 
prophet. 

He  took  the  side  of  his  own 
section  in  our  Civil  War.  In  a 
remarkable  sermon  delivered  by 
him  before  the  General  Assembly 
of  Georgia,  March  27,  1863,  he 
said  :  "  There  is  no  object  proposed 
by  our  [Confederate]  Government, 
no  end  aimed  at,  on  which  we  may 
not  consistently,  piously,  scriptural- 
ly  invoke  the  divine  blessing.  We 
may  pray  '  according  to  the  will  of 
God.'     The  triumph  of  our  arms  is 

315 


:©i0bop  ©eorge  3F.  IPicrce. 

the  triumph  of  right  and  truth  and 
justice.  The  defeat  of  our  enemies 
is  the  defeat  of  malice  and  wrong 
and  outrage."  He  believed  this 
with  all  his  heart.  The  fight  they 
made  proved  that  the  masses  of  the 
people  of  the  South  believed  and 
felt  as  he  did.  He  never  changed 
his  opinion  as  to  the  justice  of  the 
Southern  cause ;  but  he  accepted 
the  result  without  factiousness  or 
useless  repinings,  believing  that  "  all 
things  work  together  for  good  to 
them  that  love  God."  He  felt 
keenly  the  humiliations  and  suffer- 
ings of  the  period  of  reconstruction. 
He  was  averse  to  most  of  the 
changes  in  our  ecclesiastical  econ- 
omy made  by  the  General  Confer- 
ence of  1866.  To  his  unyielding 
opposition  to  the  removal  of  the 
time  limit  in  the  appointment  of  the 
preachers,  the  defeat  of  the  meas- 
ure may  be  largely  attributable. 
But  the  introduction  of  lay  delega- 
tions, the  abolition  of  the  class 
meeting  test,  the   discontinuance  of 

316 


©isbop  (Bcorae  J",  pierce.    ' 

the  probation  system,  the  legalizing 
of  the  Church  Conference,  while 
regarded  by  him  dubiously  at  first, 
were  accepted  by  him  in  good  faith. 
In  the  June  following  he  said : 
*'  With  charity  for  all  other  Church- 
es, I  frankly  avow  Methodism  suits 
me  best  in  every  way,  and  I  think 
it  best  for  my  children  and  my  chil- 
dren's children.  Let  evei-y  JSIetho- 
dist  give  his  Church  a  lien  upon 
his  household  by  all  legitimate 
means  —  such  as  baptism  of  his 
children,  instructing  them  in  Meth- 
odist theology,  teaching  them  to 
reverence  the  ministry,  to  admire 
the  simplicity  of  our  forms  and  the 
directness  and  spirituality  of  our 
worship.  The  defections  ainong 
our  people,  whether  they  fall  back 
into  the  world  or  go  into  other 
Churches,  originate  largely  in  an 
imperfect,  loose,  superficial  family 
religion,  both  as  to  the  standard  of 
piety  and  mode  of  training. 
The  Church,  thank  God,  is  neither 
dead  nor  dying.  Our  Elijahs  who 
317 


■    ©isbop  GcovQc  3F.  Pierce; 

think  that  nobody  is  left  but  them- 
selves are  mistaken.  There  are  more 
than  seven  thovisand  who  neither 
drink  nor  dance  nor  cheat  nor  lie, 
but  still  love  God  and  keep  his  com- 
mandments." 

Bishop  Pierce's  home  life  was 
very  beautiful.  In  1S33,  while  pas- 
tor at  Savannah,  the  gentle  Ann 
Maria  Waklron  became  his  wife, 
and  she  did  him  good  all  the  days 
of  their  wedded  life.  She  kept 
the  house  and  left  him  untram- 
meled  for  his  public  duties.  Their 
home  life  at  "  Sunshine,"  near 
Sparta,  Ga.,  was  almost  ideal  in  its 
elegant  simplicity,  affectionateness, 
and  hospitality.  "  What  this  little 
woman  has  been  to  me  I  cannot  ex- 
press," he  said,  as  she  stood  by  his, 
side  at  their  golden  wedding,  in 
I SS4.  She  survived  him  for  several 
3^ears  in  a  widowhood  in  which  she 
had  the  reverential  sympathy  of  all 
our  people. 

While  working  for  the  Church 
and   planning  for  future  labors  the 

318 


JSisbop  (Bcorae  S".  ipierce. 

end  came.  An  obstinate  and  pain- 
ful affection  of  the  throat  had  clung 
to  him  long.  His  strength  was  gone, 
his  form  wasted,  and  it  was  evident 
to  all  but  himself  that  his  work 
"was  nearly  finished.  He  grew  fee- 
bler day  by  day.  Returning  from 
a  church  dedication  at  Thomson, 
Ga.,  where  he  had  tried  to  preach, 
he  took  to  his  bed,  no  more  to  rise. 
He  was  emaciated  to  the  last  de- 
gree, and  could  only  speak  in  husky 
whispers.  Bvit  his  mind  was  un- 
clouded to  the  last.  "  What  do  you 
think  about  me?"  said  the  dying 
bishop  to  his  physician,  ^vho  had  felt 
his  pulse  ;  "  do  you  think  that  I  will 
get  \vell?"  The  physician  paused,, 
and  then  replied :  "  No,  Bishop  j 
your  work  is  done  ;  it  is  impossible 
for  you  to  recover."  Not  a  feature 
changed.  The  same  beautiful  smile 
rested  on  his  face.  At  the  very  last 
there  was  no  conflict.  The  death 
rattle  could  scarcely  be  heard  across 
the  room.  His  breathing  became 
fainter   and  still   fainter ;    the  chest 

U  319 


Bisbop  (Beorge  3F.  ipictce. 

and  lower  face  registered  the  proc- 
ess of  dissolution.  On  Wednesday 
morning  at  9  :i5,  September  3,  1884, 
while  all  present  knelt  about  his  bed 
and  joined  in  prayer,  he  was  gone. 

320 


1805-1894. 

IN  the  lives  of  Thomas  Bottomley 
and  John  Nelson  we  find  strik- 
ing parallelisms  and  striking  an- 
titheses. They  were  both  English- 
men, born  in  the  humbler  walks  of 
life.  Both  were  converted  under 
Methodist  preaching ;  both  were 
consecrated  stonecutters  ;  both  were 
men  of  strong  character  and  marked 
individuality  ;  both  were  wonderful- 
ly blessed  of  God  in  their  ministry ; 
both  were  faithful  unto  death. 

But  Nelson  was  a  son  of  thunder  ; 
Bottomley,  a  son  of  consolation. 
Nelson  made  sinners  tremble  by 
preaching  tiie  terrors  of  the  law ; 
Bottomley  wooed  and  won  them  by 
sound  logic  and  the  persuasion  of 
love.  John  Nelson,  like  John  the 
Baptist,  had  a  ministry  brilliant  but 

21  321 


XTbomas  JSottomle^. 

brief ;  Bottoniley,  like  the  disciple 
whom  Jesus  specially  loved  on  the 
human  side,  lived  on  and  preached 
and  prayed  until  he  was  nearly  a 
hundred  years  old.  Nelson  was 
like  a  thtmdercloud,  v^ith  its  light- 
ning flashes  and  torrent  floods ; 
Bottomley's  ministry  was  more  like 
the  gentle  and  steady  showers  that 
fructify  the  earth  and  make  harvests 
to  come.  To  posterity  Nelson  is 
knovs^n  by  his  "Journal,"  that  quaint- 
est and  frankest  of  personal  mem- 
oirs ;  Bottomley's  monument  is  the 
Kentucky  Methodism,  of  which  he 
was  one  of  the  chief  builders,  and 
which  will  endure  when  the  products 
of  the  stone  mason  and  architect's 
chisel  shall  have  perished. 

Bottomley  was  the  child  of  Meth- 
odism. He  was  born  in  Yorkshire, 
England,  June  2,  1805.  With  his 
dawning  intellectual  consciousness 
he  felt  the  touch  of  that  great  re- 
ligious awakening  that  has  changed 
the  face  of  Christendom.  He  v/as 
as  truly  the  spiritual  child  of  John 

322 


^bomas  :fi3ottomlc^. 


Wesley  and  his  corevivalists  and  co- 
reformers  as  he  was  corporeally  the 
child  of  the  quiet  Yorkshire  couple 
who  were  his  father  and  mother  ac- 
cording to  flesh. 

All  England  was  aflame.  The 
formal  ecclesiastics  were  looking  on 
the  ne^v  movement  in  wonder  or  in 
wrath ;  the  cold  and  sneering  skep- 
ticism of  the  day  was  greeting  it 
with  its  wit  in  epigrams  or  with 
its  profanity,  more  or  less  genteel. 
Here  and  there  an  elect  spirit  among 
the  titled  or  cultured  classes  caught 
its  spirit  and  fell  into  its  line  of 
march ;  the  most  responsive  of  that 
middle  class,  which  forms  the  sub- 
stantial element  of  a  nation's 
strength,  answered  to  the  call  of  the 
leader  of  this  second  Reformation  ; 
and  the  toiling  masses  of  the  under- 
most ones  of  England's  population 
felt  the  breath  of  a  new  life  and  saw 
the  light  of  a  better  day  that  had 
dawned. 

It  is  not  strange  that  this  York- 
shire   youth    joined    the    Wesleyan 

323 


^bomas  asottomle^. 


Methodists  when  he  ^vas  only  twelve 
years  old,  and  that  he  was  converted 
when  he  was  but  fifteen.  But  it 
does  seem  a  little  strange  that  he 
was  licensed  to  preach  when  he  ^vas 
but  seventeen.  And  our  wonder  is 
greater  when  we  are  told  that  he 
never  attended  school  after  he  was 
seven  years  old. 

.  Those  godly,  conscientious,  dead 
in-earnest  Wesleyans  of  that  da_^ 
did  not  act  hastily  or  carelessly  in 
the  matter  of  granting  license  to 
preach.  They  required  evidence  of 
the  possession  of  gifts  and  grace  to 
beginners,  and  they  required  proofs 
of  fruitfulness  as  the  condition  of 
continuance.  Young  Bottomley,  we 
may  safely  assume,  exhibited  more 
than  ordinary  capacity  to  be  risked 
as  a  preacher  young  as  he  was. 
They  had  made  the  discovery  that 
he  was  unusually  diligent  as  a  self- 
taught  student.  He  -was  a  student 
all  his  life.  He  began  right,  and 
kept  going  as  he  began.  No  avail- 
able moment  was  wasted  by  him. 
324 


Q^bomas  JSottomles. 


One  of  his  first  books  was  an  arith> 
metic,  from  which  he  tore  the  leaves, 
one  at  a  time,  and  carried  them 
around  in  his  hat,  that  he  might 
study  at  odd  moments.  (Our  young 
theologues  at  Vanderbilt  University 
and  elsewhere  may  make  a  note 
here.) 

Young  Bottomley  devoured  and 
absorbed  all  the  reading  that  came 
w^ithin  his  reach.  It  was  a  fortunate 
circumstance  for  him  that  an  uncle 
with  whom  he  lived,  seeing  this  to 
be  so,  furnished  him  with  the  parts 
of  Clarke's  "  Commentary  "  as  they 
issued  from  the  press,  fresh  from 
the  hands  of  the  author.  This  great 
work,  still  a  standard  among  Meth- 
odists, he  read  with  the  avidity  char- 
acteristic of  a  youthful  mind  revel- 
ing in  the  new  world  of  thought 
into  which  he  had  been  introduced. 
He  assimilated  it  so  fully  that  it  was 
a  permanent  acquisition.  He  knew 
Clarke's  "Commentary"  "by 
heart,"  in  the  fullest,  closest  sense 
of  the  expression.  Thus  was  laid 
325 


tTbomas  :©ottomlcs. 


the  foundation  of  a  theological  edu- 
cation strong  enough  to  sustain  the 
spacious  and  lofty  superstructure 
which  was  reared  thereupon. 

It  was  fortunate  for  the  youth 
that  he  lived  before  the. age  of  cheap 
printing  had  fully  come.  Cheap 
printing  goes  very  often  with  shal- 
low thinking.  There  may  be  no 
necessary  correlation  betw^een  the 
two  things,  but  that  it  is  so  is  but 
too  patent  to  all  who  have  their  eyes 
open  to  the  facts  as  they  are.  It 
is  xvhat  young  people  read,  rather 
than  the  quantity,  that  determines 
its  value.  In  this  later  day  the  land 
is  flooded  with  so  -  called  "  cheap 
reading,"  much  of  it  so  trashy  and 
so  vicious  that  it  is  dear  at  any  price. 
The  best  that  can  be  said  of  much 
of  it  is  that  it  is  worthless.  But 
much  of  this  "  cheap  reading  "  is  not 
merely  negatively  bad,  nor  worth- 
less simply  ;  it  is  positively  vicious. 
It  is  not  merely  namby  -  pamby, 
M'ishy-washy,  morbid  and  silly ;  it 
is  slangy,  sensuous,  morbid  in  tone, 

326 


trboma0  JSottomle^. 


flavored  with  ingredients  that  de- 
bauch the  taste  and  poison  the 
springs  of  youthful  thought,  feeling, 
and  action.  No,  it  was  not  wholly 
a  misfortune  that  Thomas  Bottom- 
ley  lacked  some  of  the  "  privileges  " 
enjoyed  by  many  young  people 
now.  The  fact  that  he  had  noth- 
ing to  read  but  the  Bible  and  the 
sviccessive  numbers  of  Clarke's 
"  Commentary  "  as  they  issued  from 
the  press  was  not  altogether  a  mis- 
forttine  to  this  eager,  hungry-minded 
youth.  He  got  value  received  for 
the  time  he  gave  to  reading.  Like 
most  other  blessings  of  civilization, 
the  printing  press  is  attended  w^ith 
perils  proportioned  to  its  value. 

The  suggestion  comes  in  here — • 
not  novel  or  startling,  but  none  the 
less  fitting — that  every  parent  or 
guardian  of  youth  who  may  read 
this  booklet  should  guard  with  all 
diligence  and  firmness  against  trashy 
or  vicious  reading. 

And  this  other  suggestion  may  be 
given  to  any  youth  who  may  read 
327 


^boma0  :S3ottomle^. 


what  is  here  printed  :  Be  as  select 
in  the  books  you  read  as  in  the 
company  you  keep.  (Read  that  last 
sentence  over  slowly,  and  resolve  to 
follow  the  advice  it  gives,  young 
friends.  Read  t:p,  and  not  do\vn,  as 
so  many  do  in  these  days  when  the 
land  is  flooded  with  flashiness  and 
trashiness,  foolishness  an<a  tilth.) 

Among  the  preachers  that  he 
heard  at  this  early  period  of  his 
life  were  Richard  Watson,  Adam 
Clarke,  Joseph  Benson,  and  Robert 
Newton.  Mr.  Wesley,  the  founder 
of  Methodism,  has  had  no  equal 
among  his  followers ;  these  men, 
his  contemporaries  and  colaborers  in 
part,  and  his  successors,  have  had  no 
stxperiors  in  Methodist  historj^  The 
youth  who  heard  them  preach  and 
caught  their  spirit  was  fortunate  in- 
deed. A  clearer  conception  of  the 
dignity  and  sacredness  of  the  minis- 
terial office,  a  firmer  grasp  of  the 
fundamental  facts  of  Christianity,  a 
fuller  apprehension  of  the  pro- 
founder  problems  of  religious  truth 
328 


Sbomas  asottomlei^. 


and  the  deeper  mysteries  of  religious 
experience  must  have  resvilted  from 
his  contact  with  these  great  men  at 
a  time  when  his  nature  was  most 
plastic  and  his  mind  most  responsive. 
His  success  as  a  local  preacher 
strengthened  the  impression  that  he 
ought  to  enter  the  "  traveling  con- 
nection "  and  give  himself  wholly  to 
the  work  of  the  ministry.  For  some 
reason  or  reasons  not  stated  by  him 
he  felt  vinwilling  to  accept  the  voca- 
tion. His  unwillingness  may  have 
arisen  from  a  modest  doubt,  of  his 
ability  and  fitness  for  a  life  work  de- 
manding a  preparation  so  large  and 
a  consecration  so  absolute.  Or  it 
may  have  been  that  there  was  a  ro- 
mance involved  in  the  settlement  of 
this  momentous  question.  At  that 
time  no  married  man  could  become 
a  traveling  Methodist  preacher  in 
England.  And  so  it  was  that  when 
at  the  age  of  nineteen  he  nnarried 
Hannah  Wilson  we  may  find  dis- 
closed the  real  ground  of  his  disin  ■ 
clination    to   enter   the  ranks  of  the 

329 


^bomas  :©ottomle^. 


itinerant  ministry.  The  fondness 
of  a  creature's  love,  with  a  little  of 
the  casuistry  -which  so  readily  sug- 
gests itself  to  the  heart  that  is  seek- 
ing encourageiTient  to  pursue  the 
course  to  which  it  is  already  in- 
clined, may  have  operated  upon  his 
mind  and  determined  his  action  in 
this  matter.  It  so  turned  out,  how- 
ever, that  this  marriage  was  a  link 
in  a  chain  of  events  that  changed 
the  whole  course  of  his  life. 

Still  feeling  within  his  soul  an 
undercui-rent  of  conviction  that  he 
ought  to  give  himself  wholly  to  the 
preaching  of  the  gospel,  in  1828  he 
came  to  America.  Lack  of  means 
caused  him,  for  the  time,  to  leave  his 
wife  and  infant  son  in  England,  as 
has  been  done  by  many  others  who 
have  come  to  our  country  and  found 
a  blessing,  and  in  so  doing  brought 
a  blessing  to  it.  He  landed  in  New 
York,  but  soon  went  to  Paterson, 
N,  J.,  -where  he  was  licensed  to 
preach  in  the  Methodist  Episcopal 
Church  on  February  28,  1829. 

330 


^bomaa  JBottomlc^. 


The  evangelistic  impulse  "was  still 
burning  in  his  soul.  His  voyage 
across  the  Atlantic  had  not  cooled 
or  quenched  its  flame.  All  the 
waters  of  all  the  oceans  of  the  world 
cannot  quench  the  love  of  Christ 
and  the  love  of  souls  in  the  heart 
of  a  man  whom  God  has  called  to 
preach.  One  of  three  things  must 
be  the  lot  of  svich  a  man  :  compli- 
ance, a  sorrowful,  crippled  life,  or 
apostasy.  A  dispensation  of  the 
gospel  had  been  committed  unto 
him,  and  the  Holy  Spirit  was  lead- 
ing him  by  a  way  that  he  knew  not 
and  would  not  have  chosen. 

From  New  Jersey  he  had  gone 
to  Richmond,  Va.,  ^vhere  he  \vorked 
diligently  as  a  stone  mason  during 
the  week  and  preached  nearly  every 
Sunday.  The  next  year  he  sent  for 
his  faithful  and  beloved  wife,  and 
had  a  glad  reunion  with  her  at  New 
York,  whither  he  had  gone  to  meet 
her  on  her  arrival.  Her  coming  set- 
tled at  least  one  question  :  hence- 
forth he  was  to  be  an  American  cit- 

331 


^bomas  Bottomleg. 


izen,  and  his  ^voi"k  was  to  be  done 
and  his  destiny  determined  here. 

Settling  his  family  temporarily  at 
Ellicott's  Mills,  now  Ellicott  City, 
near  Baltimore,  Md.,  Mr.  Bottomley 
applied  himself  to  his  business  as  a 
stone  mason.  He  superintended,  in 
part,  the  construction  of  the  stone 
and  brick  work  on  the  first  railroad 
built  in  the  United  States,  the  Bal- 
timore and  Ohio.  He  also  took 
part  in  the  construction  of  the  stone 
locks  on  the  James  River  canal. 
During  this  interval  he  continued  to 
preach  in  the  local  ranks,  still  inward- 
ly moved  by  the  call  of  the  Spirit  to 
cut  loose  from  secular  engagements 
and  go  forth  to  preach  under  the  gos- 
pel commission.  Dui'ing  eight  busy 
yet  restless  years  he  pursued  his  call- 
ing, making  one  "brief  experiment 
in  the  drug  business,"  as  a  friendly 
biographer  phrases  it.  The  proper 
inference  may  be  that  it  was  a  double 
failure,  bringing  no  money  into  his 
pocket  and  no  satisfaction  to  his 
soul. 

332 


XTbomas  JSottomle^, 


All  this  time  he  preached  as  he 
Tiad  opportunity,  which  we  may  be 
sure  was  not  seldom. 

The  decisive  year  in  his  life  was 
1840.  In  the  month  of  March  of 
that  year  he  was  admitted  on  trial 
into  the  Baltimore  Conference,  Bish- 
op Waugh  presiding.  He  was  one 
of  a  class  of  fifteen,  among  w^hom 
was  the  late  Samuel  Register,  Doc- 
tor of  Divinity,  a  man  of  mark,  ma- 
jestic in  physique,  mighty  in  the 
Scriptures,  a  leader  and  guide  in 
troublous  times.  Thomas  Bowman, 
at  the  date  of  this  writing'  Senior 
Bishop  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal 
Chvirch,  had  been  received  one  year 
previous. 

Mr.  Bottomley's  loyalty  to  Meth- 
odist polity  was  severely  tested  at 
the  start.  Without  waiting  for  his 
consent,  he  was  transferred  to  the 
Arkansas  Conference.  No  doubt 
his  biographer  puts  it  mildly  when 
he  says :  "  Mr.  Bottomley  did  not 
receive  this  appointment  with  equa- 
nimity."     Nay,    verily !      A    swing 

333 


^bomas  JSottomlcg. 


from  Maryland  to  Arkansas  at  that 
day  was  no  small  matter.  But  his 
gentle,  true-hearted  wife,  a  heroine 
and  a  saint  who  never  sought  recog- 
nition by  the  world  nor  expected 
canonization  after  death,  strength- 
ened her  husband's  faith  and  cour- 
age in  her  own  womanly  way,  and 
he  started  to  Arkansas,  if  not  joy- 
fully, yet  trustfully.  Their  route 
lay  overland  to  Wheeling,  Va.,  and 
thence  by  steamer  for  the  Low^er 
Mississippi.  In  good  faith  he  start- 
ed to  Arkansas  ;  but  he  never 
reached  that  destination.  On  the 
boat  his  wife  was  seized  with  a  se- 
vere sickness,  and  they  were  com- 
pelled   to    disembark    at    Loviisville, 

Ky. 

Thus  providentially  brought  to 
Kentucky,  Mr.  Bottomley  never  left 
the  state.  He  became  a  Ken- 
tuckian  of  the  Kentuckians.  In 
Louisville  he  found  a  hospitality 
that  was  characteristically  prompt 
and  generous.  The  Methodist  peo- 
ple of  the  city  opened  their  homes. 
334 


^bomas  :©ottomle^. 


to  him,  and  ministered  kindly  to 
his  ^vife  through  all  her  long  sick- 
ness. Recognizing  providential 
purpose  in  his  detention,  with  a 
heart  glowing  with  gratitude  to  the 
people  who  had  so  opportunely  ex- 
tended to  him  a  Christian  hospital- 
ity, he  determined,  God  willing,  to 
abide  with  them.  And  he  did 
abide  with  the  Kentucky  Meth- 
odists, and  wrought  for  them  for 
fifty  years  from  that  date. 

At  the  session  of  the  Kentucky 
Conference  for  1840,  held  at  Bards- 
town,  Bishop  Morris  presiding,  he 
become  a  member  of  that  body. 
He  never  again  transferred,  but 
when  that  Conference  was  divided 
in  1846  he  adhered  to  the  newly 
formed  Louisville  Conference. 

During  the  fifty-six  years  of  his 
ministry  in  Kentucky  he  served  on 
stations,  circuits,  and  districts,  al- 
ways faithful,  diligent,  and  efficient, 
with  no  discount  upon  his  ministry 
from  mental  or  moral  infirmity. 
That  is  to  say,  he  was  a  man  of 
V  335 


^bomas  asottomle^. 


God,  combining  in  his  character 
and  methods  of  ministerial  work  a 
fervent  piety  and  good  common 
sense  in  a  remarkable  degree.  His 
name  was  a  synonym  for  sanctity 
and  sound  judgment  in  all  the  cir- 
cles where  he  labored  longest  and 
was  best  known.  In  the  days  of 
his  strength  "  Brother  "  Bottomley 
was  regarded  as  a  captain  of  the 
hosts  of  Israel  who  was  always  at 
the  post  of  duty  and  who  al\vays 
made  a  good  report.  In  his  old  age 
"  Father  "  Bottomley  was  regarded 
"with  a  reverence  that  was  mingled 
with  affection  accorded  only  to  men 
who  walk  with  God  and  show  good 
will  to  men  in  word  and  deed.  He 
still  brought  forth  fruit  in  old  age ; 
his  leaf  did  not  wither.  Behind  him 
was  the  record  of  successive  decades 
of  holy  living  and  beneficent  service 
that  inspired  sentiments  of  reverence 
and  gratitude  among  all  classes  of 
people,  from  the  humblest  to  the 
highest.  His  hoary  head  in  this 
way  of  righteousness  was  a  crown 

336 


^bomae  JSottomles* 


of  honor.  He  was  no  aspirant  for 
honors  of  any  sort.  He  never 
sought  position  nor  coveted  titles  of 
distinction.  He  was  modest  by  na- 
ture and  retiring  in  his  disposition  ; 
through  heavenly  grace  the  fair 
flower  of  genuine  Christian  htunil- 
ity  bloomed  in  his  holy  life  and 
shed  its  fragrance  throughout  all 
the  v^^ide  circle  of  his  association 
and  influence. 

As  a  preacher  he  was  weighty 
rather  than  eloc[uent,  as  eloquence  is 
usually  defined ;  lucid  and  striking 
rather  than  brilliant  or  startling.  As 
an  expounder  of  the  Holy  Scriptures 
and  of  the  peculiar  doctrines  of 
Methodism  he  was  a  master.  At 
times  he  rose  to  heights  of  great 
spiritual  power,  and  mightily  moved 
the  masses  who  heard  him.  It  was 
not  in  his  nature  to  be  intolerant  to- 
ward  any  of  his  fellow-creatures, 
but  he  could  not  conceal  his  grief 
when  he  saw  among  his  brother 
preachers  any  taint  of  heresy  or  dis- 
position   to    trifle    with    truth.       He 

22  337 


Q;bomas  :©ottomle^. 


deprecated  confused,  careless,  or 
reckless  statements  of  Christian 
doctrine,  and  against  all  opposers 
he  was  ready  to  defend  the  faith  of 
the  fathers  of  Methodism.  At  the 
sound  of  a  false  note  on  this  line  the 
sweet-souled  old  saint  would  instant- 
ly be  roused  into  a  militancy  that 
shunned  no  issue  and  feared  no  an- 
tagonist. By  this  it  is  not  meant  to 
say  that  he  was  a  controversialist  of 
the  sort  of  which  Kentucky  had  its 
full  share — men  who  were  fond  of 
the  theological  dtiello^  who  turned 
their  pulpits  into  battlefields,  and 
made  all  Kentucky,  during  several 
lively  decades,  resound  with  the 
clangor  of  theological  debate. 

It  always  seems  to  be  matter  of 
regret  that  Christianity  must  expend 
any  part  of  its  energy  in  conflicts 
within  its  own  body,  and  it  must  be 
a  source  of  gratification  to  all  who 
love  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  that 
there  is  less  and  still  less  need  for 
such  contention  as  the  brisfhtenine 
years  bring  us  nearer  and  still  near- 

338 


tibomas  JSottomleg. 


er  to  its  promised  unification  and 
latter-day  glory.  But  in  that  earlier 
day  in  Kentucky  Methodism  had  to 
fight  for  a  foothold  and  for  every 
inch  of  ground  that  it  gained.  The 
old  giants  of  the  Methodist  pulpits 
wrestled  with  the  warriors  of  other 
communions  who  had  milder  views 
concerning  free  agency  and  free 
grace,  or  were  inclined,  as  they 
thought,  to  mix  with  the  water  of 
life  too  large  a  measure  of  the  literal 
aqueous  element  found  in  the  rivers, 
creeks,  ponds,  and  tanks  of  old  Ken- 
tucky. All  the  old  Kentucky  Meth- 
odist preachers  were  well  posted  on 
the  "  Five  Points "  of  Calvinism, 
and  knew  all  about  baptism  from 
the  fords  of  the  Jordan  to  Caney 
Creek.  The  old  Kentucky  bishop 
(Kavanaugh)  v^^as  mighty  on  this 
line,  and  in  his  old  age,  from  force 
of  habit  as  well  as  from  strength  of 
conviction,  he  would  at  times,  when 
no  enemy  was  in  sight,  show  how, 
in  his  earlier  days,  he  smote  the 
Philistines   hip   and   thigh.      There 


^bomas  :fiSottomle^. 


were  giants  in  the  land  in  those 
days,  and  they  were  not  all  found 
among  the  Methodists.  The  sturdy 
old  Calvinists,  who  firmly  believed 
that  what  was  to  be  would  be,  and 
that  it  was  foreordained  that  they 
should  help  to  bring  it  to  pass ;  the 
undoubting,  unflinching  immersion- 
ists,  who  quoted  Greek  at  first  or 
second  hand,  and  were  ever  ready 
for  a  fray  on  land  or  water ;  and 
the  followers  of  Alexander  Camp- 
bell, who  contended  with  the  con- 
fidence of  thorough  conviction  and 
the  enthusiasm  inspired  by  a  new 
movement — all  these  had  to  be  met 
in  the  field  of  open  combat,  and  they 
were  foemen  worthy  of  the  steel  of 
the  knights  who  bore  the  Methodist, 
banners.  These  battles  demonstrated 
that  the  combatants  w^ere  awfully  in 
earnest.  They  believed,  and  there- 
fore they  spoke.  Much  as  we  of 
this  more  peaceful  time  may  deplore 
what  might  seem  to  be  their  lack  of 
unity  and  waste  of  energy,  it  remains 
true  that  there  is  one  thing  more  to 

340 


^bomas  JSottomleg. 


be  dreaded  than  denominational  con- 
troversy, and  that  is  the  indifference 
that  indicates  the  quiet  of  death.  It 
is  not  altogether  a  bad  sign  of  the 
times  that  men  care  enough  for 
their  religious  views  to  fight  for 
them — with  weapons  not  carnal,  of 
course.  The  peace  that  is  coming 
will  be  the  peace  born  of  the  spiritual 
unity  which  is  growing  everywhere 
in  Christendom  at  this  hour :  the 
spiritual  vmity  "which  brings  all  the 
followers  of  Christ  closer  to  one  an- 
other because  they  are  all  closer  to 
him.  That  day  hastens.  Let  all 
who  love  his  appearing  be  ready 
for  it. 

Though  he  was  not  as  pugnacious 
and  fond  of  debate  as  some  of  his 
compeers,  Mr.  Bottomley  did  a  good 
work  on  this  line  in  an  indirect 
way.  He  expounded  the  doctrines 
and  usages  of  his  own  Church  so 
lucidly,  cogently,  and  persuasively 
that  his  hearers  were  fortified  in 
their  fealty  thereto,  and  the  troub- 
lers    of    our    Israel    and    proselytei's 

341 


ITbomas  JSottomleg. 


were  effectually  forestalled.  The 
Methodism  he  built  up  was  intelli- 
gent, steady-going,  and  straightfor- 
ward. The  type  of  Christianity 
molded  under  his  ministry  was 
steadfast,  unmovable,  always  abound- 
ing in  the  work  of  the  Lord. 

He  was  no  less  zealous  in  his 
contention  for  holy  living  than  for 
sound  doctrine.  When  asked  to 
describe  his  character  in  one  word, 
one  who  knew  him  well  replied : 
"  He  was  a  godly  man."  To  be 
godly  is  to  be  good  in  the  sight  of 
God.  Accepting  this  definition,  all 
who  knew  Mr.  Bottomley  would  be 
willing  to  indorse  its  application  to 
him.  His  standai'd  for  himself  was 
high.  He  watched  and  prayed  after 
a  New  Testament  sort.  He  was  no 
mystic  or  mere  dreamer,  but  he 
communed  with  God  in  the  secret 
places  and  w^alked  with  his  Lord  in 
Avhite,  maintaining  the  unsullied 
purity  of  a  life  hid  with  Christ  in 
God.  He  was  a  faithful  admin- 
istrator  of    Church   discipline,  both 

342 


vTbomae  JSottomle^. 


from  love  to  the  Church  and  its 
Head,  and  love  of  souls.  He  was  a 
faithful  pastor.  He  v\^atched  for 
souls  as  one  that  must  give  account. 
He  sought  to  heal  the  diseased  mem- 
ber ;  failing  in  this,  after  due  warn- 
ing, entreaty,  and  persuasion,  it  was, 
for  the  sake  of  the  ■whole  body,  cut 
off.  He  had  a  solemn  sense  of  the 
sinfulness  of  sin  and  of  the  obliga- 
tion resting  upon  the  ministry  to 
maintain  the  purity  of  the  Church 
in  so  far  as  personal  holiness  and 
faithfulness  of  official  administra- 
tion could  secure  that  result.  His 
holy  life  and  pastoral  vigilance  large- 
ly prevented  the  defections  which 
are  so  hard  to  be  cured.  He  was 
faithful  yet  tender.  He  could  use 
the  surgeon's  knife  as  a  last  resort, 
but  he  was  not  one  of  the  men  who 
could  smilingly  boast  of  his  prow- 
ess in  purging  Church  registers  by 
the  heroic  process  of  quick  decapi- 
tation. Under  such  a  pastorate  the 
membership  of  the  Church  "  as 
lively  stones,  are  built  up  a  spiritual 
343 


XTbomas  JSottomlei^. 


house,  a  holy  priesthood,  to  offer 
up  spiritual  sacrifices,  acceptable  to 
God  by  Jesus  Christ."  The  Church 
grew  numerically  without  losing  in 
purity  or  spiritual  power  wherever 
this  man  of  God  and  others  like- 
minded  fed  and  led  the  flock  of 
Christ. 

In  one  particular  his  example  is 
worthy  of  special  mention,  A  rigid 
economy  in  his  personal  and  family 
expenses  enabled  him  to  live  within 
his  small  income  during  the  whole 
period  of  his  ministry.  He  was 
often  heard  to  say  that  during  all 
those  years  he  never  owed  a  dollar 
that  he  could  not  pay  on  five  min- 
utes' notice.  The  mettle  of  the  man 
is  shown  in  this  incident  of  his  early 
life  before  he  went  to  Kentucky,  as 
related  by  himself.  At  the  ap- 
proach of  the  winter  season,  with 
a  v^ife  and  two  little  children,  he 
found  himself  without  em23loyment 
and  without  a  dollar.  He  owned  a 
cow,  and  she  supported  the  family. 
They  drank  part  of  the  milk  and 
344 


trbomas  :©ottomIes. 


sold  the  remainder.  With  the 
money  thus  obtained  he  bought 
daily  a  peck  of  bran  for  the  cow 
and  some  simple  food  for  the  fam- 
ily. When  the  winter  was  past, 
all,  including  the  faithful  cow,  were 
in  good  health.  He  then  found 
plenty  of  work,  and  was  out  of 
debt.  If  all  our  preachers  had  been 
as  scruptdous  as  he  was  with  regard 
to  the  matter  of  going  into  debt, 
some  of  the  saddest  chapters  in  the 
history  of  our  Church  and  other 
Churches  would  never  have  been 
written.  The  preacher  who  does 
not  pay  his  debts  sows  the  seed  of 
disaster  to  the  cause  of  Christ 
wherever  he  goes.  Two  things 
ought  to  be  said  just  here :  First, 
the  great  body  of  the  ministers  of 
the  gospel  are  blameless  in  this  mat- 
ter, many  of  them,  with  their  wives, 
practicing  economies  and  self  -  de- 
nials that  glorify  their  Lord  and  at- 
test the  sincerity  and  absoluteness  of 
their  consecration.  And  secondly, 
that  the  honor  of  the  Church  and 
345 


n^bomas  JSottomle^. 


the  good  name  of  its  ministry  demand 
that  the  men  who  will  not  pay 
their  debts  must  get  out  of  the  pul- 
pit. 

No  high-minded,  conscientious 
preacher  of  the  gospel  who  may 
have  become  temporarily  embar- 
rassed by  debt  by  no  fault  of  his 
own  will  misunderstand  what  is  here 
said.  Such  men  never  rest  until 
they  have  worked  out.  They  have 
the  respect  of  all  good  men  who 
kno-w  the  facts,  and  the  synipathy 
of  many  who  have  had  a  similar  ex- 
perience. But  for  the  other  sort — 
the  men  who  make  the  ministry  a 
cloak  for  conduct  which  is  half 
mendicancy  and  half  robbery — the 
pillory  would  be  better  suited  than 
the  pulpit. 

An  ethical  tonic  is  needed  to  tone 
up  some  of  our  ecclesiastical  bodies 
at  this  point.  It  would  be  labor 
wasted  to  apply  a  sinapism  to  the  will- 
ful delinquents  individually :  thei'- 
sensibilities  are  shame-proof,  their 
consciences     seared.      (The     kindly 

346 


^bomas  JSottomleg* 


reader  will  read  what  is  here  said 
with  a  discriminating  mind,  and  no 
innocent  man  will  be  hurt.) 

The  candidate  for  admission  into 
full  connection  in  the  Methodist 
Episcopal  Church,  South,  as  he 
stands  before  the  chancel  after  fast- 
ing and  prayer,  is  asked  this  ques- 
tion :  "Are  you  in  debt  so  as  to  em- 
barrass you  ?  "  This  is  not  an  idle 
interrogation.  It  means  that  the 
candidate  shall  come  up  for  admis- 
sion not  only  clean-handed,  but  with 
a  reasonable  presumption  that  he 
possesses  sufficient  energy  and  com- 
mon sense  to  make  a  living  in  some 
secular  business.  The  man  who 
takes  it  as  certain  that  he  is  called  to 
preach  because  he  has  failed  in 
everything  else  may  be  laboring  un- 
der a  delusion.  Brave,  self-respect- 
ing Father  Bottomley !  we  uncover 
ovu"  heads  in  his  presence.  To  the 
end  of  his  life  he  was  self-support- 
ing, wholly  independent  of  relatives 
and  friends. 

He  was  a  close  student  to  the  end 

347 


Q^bomas  JSottomleij. 


of  his  life,  and  to  the  last  maintained 
much  of  the  vigor  of  his  intellect 
and  freshness  of  his  thought.  He 
read  the  current  theological  litera- 
ture with  unflagging  interest.  Un- 
like most  persons  of  advanced  age, 
he  lived  in  the  present  rather  than 
in  the  past. 

His  heart  never  grew  old.  He 
loved  children  and  young  people, 
and  delighted  in  the  work  of  the 
Sunday  school  and  the  Ep worth 
League.  Persons  who  heard  him 
make  one  of  his  graphic  and  pathetic 
talks  to  children  in  the  Sunday 
school  in  his  earlier  ministry  en- 
joyed a  rare  treat  and  received  im- 
pressions that  were  never  lost. 

He  possessed  the  intelligence, 
sympathy,  and  social  tact  that  gave 
him  access  to  all  classes  of  people, 
the  old  and  the  young,  the  rich  and 
the  poor,  the  lowliest  and  the  most 
exalted  in  social  position. 

His  classmate  in  the  Louisville 
Conference,  the  venerable  Drum- 
mond  Welburn,  who  survives  him, 

348 


ITbomas  JSottomle^, 


and  whose  bodil}^  and  intellectual 
vigor  promise  a  life  not  less  pro- 
longed, when  asked  to  describe  Fa- 
ther Bottomley  in  a  few  words, 
thoughtfully  penciled  the  following  : 
"  Thoroughly  orthodox.  Consist- 
ently pious.  A  thoroughly  Ameri- 
canized Englishman.  A  pointed 
preacher."  That  was  the  man  as 
his  brethren  knew  him  and  as  his 
record  attests. 

His  home  life  was  as  beautiful  as 
his  public  career  ^vas  exemplary  and 
beneficent.  He  ruled  his  own  house- 
hold well.  He  governed  his  chil- 
dren by  the  moral  compulsion  of  his 
O'wn  godly  walk  and  conversation 
and  the  potency  of  paternal  love  in- 
tensified and  hallowed  by  the  love  of 
God,  which  was  the  ruling  pinnciple 
of  his  life  and  the  pervading  spirit 
of  the  dearest  inner  circle  of  the 
family.  To  those  who  had  access 
to  his  home  there  will  not  seem  to 
be  much  extravagance  in  the  state- 
ment that  "by  his  own  children  he 
was  almost  worshiped."     A  special 

349 


ITbomas  JSottomleg. 


point  may  be  made  here.  The  home 
test  is  the  true  test  of  the  man.  It 
has  happened  that  men  w^ho  succeed 
everywhere  else  fail  there.  That  is 
the  saddest  of  all  failures.  Good 
men  have  been  and  are  found  in  this 
category.  Free  agency,  fearful  as 
v\^ell  as  glorious  in  its  possibilities, 
is  not  superseded  by  parental  influ- 
ence. Good  men  have  had  bad 
children,  and  bad  men  have  been 
the  fathers  of  children  who  became 
good.  But  the  word  of  God  holds 
true  that  if  a  child  is  trained  up  in 
the  way  he  should  go  he  will  go 
that  way.  The  emphasis  should  be 
placed  on  the  word  "  trained."  Fa- 
ther Bottomley  trained  his  children, 
in  the  fullest  sense  of  the  word,  by 
example  as  well  as  b}'  precept. 
When  the  son  of  that  stalwart  and 
largely  proportioned  giant  layman 
of  Kentucky  Methodism,  Marma- 
duke  Morton — a  man  possessing  the 
virility  and  valor  of  an  old  Roman 
of  Rome's  heroic  age,  with  the  de- 
votion of  a  New^  Testament  follower 

350 


^bomas  JSottomleig. 


of  Christ — was  united  in  marriage 
with  Hannah  Bottomley,  his  daugh- 
ter, it  was  reasonable  to  expect  the 
promise  to  hold  good  for  children's 
children.  And  if  we  regard  the  liv- 
ing Methodists  of  the  generation  in 
Kentucky  that  he  helped  to  train  as 
coming  under  the  application  of  this 
scriptural  affirmation  or  promise,  we 
have,  without  straining  its  meaning, 
a  further  illustration  of  its  truth. 

He  died  at  Hopkinsville,  Ky., 
September  37,  1894,  as  peacefully  as 
a  child  goes  to  sleep  in  its  mother's 
arms.  There  were  no  pains  or 
groans  or  dying  strife  in  his  death. 
Without  disease  or  suffering  the 
wheels  of  life  at  last  stood  still.  He 
was  in  his  ninetieth  year,  and  had 
been  for  seventy-two  years  a  Meth- 
odist preacher.  For  the  fifty-fourth 
time  his  name  had  been  called  in  the 
Annual  Conference,  and  the  re- 
sponse given,  "  Nothing  against 
him."  He  had  ripened  sweetly  for 
heaven,  and  came  to  his  grave  in  a 
full   age,   like  as   a   shock    of    corn 

\y  351 


ITbomas  asottomlc^. 

Cometh  in  his  season.  The  verdict 
of  his  colaborers  in  the  Church  mil- 
itant, "Nothing  against  him,"  will 
be  followed  by  the  Master's  "  Well 
done  "  in  the  crowning  day  when  he 
will  be  found  among  those  who  have 
turned  many  to  righteousness,  of 
whom  it  is  said  that  they  shall  shine 
as  the  stars  forever. 

Physically  Dr.  Gross  Alexander 
thus  describes  Father  Bottomley : 
*'  He  was  rather  below  the  ordinary 
stature,  and  weighed  about  one 
hundred  and  forty  pounds.  He  had 
a  square  front,  \vhich  always  fronted 
you  full.  There  was  nothing  side- 
wise  about  Thomas  Bottomley. 
He  had  a  full  forehead,  a  sqviare 
face,  grayish-blue  eyes  which 
glowed  as  they  looked  on  you,  a 
large  mouth,  and  thin  lips.  He  had 
a  way  of  lifting  his  eyebro^vs,  and 
there  was  a  searching  quality  in  his 
glance  ^vhen,  ^vith  his  brow  lifted, 
he  looked  full  upon  you." 

352 


3ctferson  Ibamilton* 

1805-1874. 

IT  would  be  hard  to  pack  more 
nervous  energy,  common  sense, 
keen  sensibility,  brain  power,  and 
spiritual  fervor  into  one  man's  make- 
up than  was  found  in  this  thin,  pal- 
lid-faced preacher,  who  was  vital  all 
over  and  through  and  through,  a 
corporeal  light  weight,  but  an  intel- 
lectual and  spiritixal  giant.  Weigh- 
ing bodily  about  one  hundred  and 
twenty  pounds,  his  inental  and  moral 
force  was  such  that  it  turned  the 
scale  in  many  close  and  doubtful 
matters  with  -which  he  had  to  do, 
and  made  his  voice  and  his  vote  a 
controlling  factor  in  controversies 
that  affected  the  whole  Church  and 
the  whole  country. 

In  Alabama,  the  land  of  his  adop- 
tion and  affection,  his  influence  was 
pervasive  throughout  all  its  borders 

23  353 


d^cttctson  Ibamilton. 


while  he  lived  and  labored  as  a  min- 
ister of  Christ.  When  he  died, 
mingled  with  the  admiration  felt  for 
him  and  the  gratitude  to  God  for  the 
gift  of  such  a  man,  was  a  sense  of 
impoverishment  that  is  still  felt  in 
all  the  circles  in  which  he  moved. 

He  was  born  on  August  20,  1S05, 
of  religious  parents,  in  Worcester 
County,  Mass.,  and  had  the  rearing 
of  the  New  England  boy  of  that 
day.  That  meant  that  he  had  plenty 
of  outdoor  exercise,  regular  habits, 
a  bracing  climate  with  a  touch  of 
rigor,  and  a  general  w^ide-awakeness 
to  all  that  was  going  on  w^ithin  the 
range  of  his  observation  and  read- 
ing. 

Though  not  pertinent  to  the  main 
purpose  of  this  booklet,  his  name 
suggests  a  reading  between  the  lines. 
His  surname  \vas  that  of  Alexander 
Hamilton,  the  great  leader  of  the 
Federal  party  in  this  nation.  His 
Christian  name  was  that  of  the  lead- 
er and  founder  of  the  Democratic 
party,  Thomas  Jefferson.     This  fact 

354 


Jefferson  Ibamilton. 


warrants  the  inference  that  his  fa- 
ther was  one  of  those  New  En- 
gland Democrats  who,  adopting  the 
great  Vii'ginian's  political  principles, 
have  exhibited  a  strength  of  convic- 
tion and  a  tenacity  of  purpose  not 
surpassed  by  any  in  the  history  of 
our  republic. 

Jefferson  Hamilton  was  presump- 
tively the  son  of  a  father  who,  polit- 
ically, belonged  to  the  school  of  the 
author  of  the  Declaration  of  Inde- 
pendence, and  a  man  who  had  the 
courage  of  his  convictions  and  the 
ardor  of  enthusiastic  partisanship. 
This  being  so,  it  is  not  to  be  v^^on- 
dered  at  that  in  after  years,  when  the 
son  became  a  citizen  of  the  South, 
he  was  in  some  sense  already  pre- 
naturalized,  and  became,  in  his  opin- 
ions, sympathies,  and  affiliations,  a 
Southerner  of  the  Southerners. 

In  ecclesiastical  matters  he  always 
leaned  to  the  side  of  strict  construc- 
tion of  constitutional  questions  ;  and 
he  was  jealous  of  the  rights  of  mi- 
norities and  readv  to  defend  them 
355 


5eflEecson  Ibamllton. 


whenever  and  by  whomsoever  as- 
sailed. That  he  was  baptized  by  the 
name  of  Jefferson  w^as  probably  not 
less  significant  than  if  it  had  at  a 
later  day  been  Andrew  Jackson. 

The  North  and  the  South  in  the 
old  days  made  happy  exchanges  of 
laborers.  The  North  gave  Soule  and 
Hamilton  to  the  South  for  life,  and 
loaned  her  Stephen  Olin  for  a  sea- 
son. The  South  gave  Jesse  Lee 
to  New  England,  and  Morris,  Cart- 
wright,  and  for  a  season  McKen- 
dree,  and  a  noble  company  of  cola- 
borers  to  the  West  and  to  the  north- 
western states  and  territories.  This 
interchange  is  still  going  on,  and  all 
concerned  are  the  better  for  it. 

The  best  part  of  Hamilton's  early 
education  was  given  him  by  his 
Christian  mother.  He  was  the  sub- 
ject of  her  prayers,  her  companion 
in  the  house  of  God,  and  her  attend- 
ant in  the  homes  of  sickness  and 
poverty.  She  helped  to  give  him, 
under  God,  the  touch  that  made  him 
in  after  years  an  exemplar  of  all  the 

356 


Jefferson  Ibamilton. 


qualities  and  a  model  in  the  use  of 
the  methods  of  faithful  and  eflficient 
pastoral  work  that  wear  the  longest 
and  bring  the  best  and  largest  re- 
sults. She  was  one  of  the  holy 
women  whose  tender  hand  could 
smooth  the  pillow  of  the  invalid, 
whose  womanly  presence  could  car- 
ry sunshine  to  the  home  of  sorrow 
or  of  pain,  and  whose  pi-ayers  at  the 
bedside  of  suffering  touched  the  all- 
loving  Lord,  whose  answering  touch 
brought  comfort  and  renewed  hope 
and  strength  to  souls  that  were 
ready  to  perish  or  on  the  brink  of 
despair.  No  minute  description  of 
her  is  accessible  to  us  now  ;  but  Jef- 
ferson Hamilton  was  his  mother's 
son  in  a  sense  as  truly  significant  as 
John  Wesley  was  the  son  of  Susan- 
nah Wesley.  A  further  parallelism 
is  suggested  :  in  all  the  essential  el- 
ements of  ministerial  character  no 
man  has  stood  in  the  pulpits  or 
served  in  the  councils  of  Methodism 
who  was  more  closely  patterned 
after  John  Wesley  than  Jefferson 
357 


5efterson  tbamllton. 


Hamilton.A^  He  was  originally  of 
the  same  quality  of  metal,  and  after 
being  melted  at  a  white  heat  in  the 
fires  of  repentance,  he  was  molded 
into  the  likeness  of  his  Lord  in  his 
spiritual  man.  j  He  caught  at  once 
the  inspiratiojyof  the  great  religious 
movement  that  w'as  shaking  the  old 
ecclesiasticisms  and  moving  the 
masses  with  such  wonderful  power 
on  both  sides  of  the  Atlantic. 

His  time  was  divided  between 
farm  work  and  attendance  at  school 
for  some  years.  He  was  a  good 
worker  and  also  an  apt  scholar  ac- 
cording to  his  opportunity. 

In  his  twentieth  year  he  was  con- 
verted and  joined  the  Methodist 
Episcopal  Church.  Considering  the 
time  and  the  man,  \ve  are  safe  in  as- 
suming that  the  process  of  his  con- 
version was  thorough.  Justification 
by  faith,  the  witness  of  the  Holy 
Spirit,  the  peace  that  follows  par- 
don, and  the  joy  of  a  conscious  sal- 
vation, in  that  day  were  preached 
by  men  ^vho  knew  the  way  to  which 
358 


5efEcrson  Ibamtlton. 


fehey  pointed  their  hearers,  and  felt 
what  they  told.  A  genuine  repent- 
ance, a  surrender  that  was  without 
reservation,  a  choice  of  the  will  that 
took  Jesus  as  his  Saviour,  his  Lord, 
and  his  King  in  the  present  tense, 
brought  the  promised  salvation  in 
the  present  tense.  According  to  his 
faith  it  was  done  unto  him.  He  w^as 
a  new  creature  in  Christ  Jesus  in  all 
the  significance  of  that  expression  as 
rfound  in  New  Testament  Scripture. 
His  first  love  \\yas~^varm  and  the 
light  was  clear.  V^This  experience, 
so  satisfying  to  his  own  soul,  helped 
him  to  help  many  other  souls  in  the 
crisis  of  their  religious  lives-J-how 
many  will  not  be  known  befdre  the 
coming-  of  that  day  when  the  books 
shall  be  opened  and  every  man's 
work  shall  be  revealed  and  re- 
warded. 

I     In  his  inner  ear  young  Hamilton 

heard  the  call  of  God  to  preach  the 

/  gospel.      The  command  seemed  dis- 

/   tinct  to  him  in  the  imperative  mood 

/    and  present  tense.      Conferring  not 

V-^  359 


Jefferson  Ibamflton, 


with  flesh  and  blood,  he  began  ai. 
once  to  exhort  and  pray  for  sinners, 
and  by  his  example  and  influence 
sought  to  lead  them  to  the  Saviour 
he  himself  had  found. 

Believing  that  the  call  to  preach 
involved  a  call  to  seek  the  fullest 
possible  preparation  therefor,  that 
he  might  be  a  Vv^orkman  that  need- 
ed not  to  be  ashamed,  rightly  divid- 
ing the  w^ord  of  truth,  he  began  a 
special  course  of  instruction  looking 
in  this  direction.  It  v\^as  a  for- 
tunate circumstance  for  him  and  for 
our  Methodism  that  at  that  time  Dr.. 
Wilbur  Fisk  v\^as  teaching  at  Wil- 
braham  Academy,  and  took  the 
young  exhorter  under  his  special 
charge.  The  quick  eye  of  that 
grandly  gracious  or  graciously  grand 
man  discerned  at  once  the  quality  of 
his  new  pupil.  He  recognized  a 
diamond  of  finest  quality  to  be 
fashioned  and  polished  by  homiletic 
skill.  On  the  other  hand,  in  the  pu- 
pil's mind  was  excited  an  admira- 
tion,   reverence,    and    affection    for 

360 


Jefferson  Ibamflton. 


r 


his  teacher  that  never  left  him. 
Wilbur  Fisk  was  his  ideal  of  Chris- 
tian manhood  and  bis  model  as  a 
Christian  minister.^  No  young  man 
who  ever  felt  the  touch  of  tli^  man 
of  God  ever  lost  its  effecO  As 
Bishop  McTyeire  said  of  his  old 
preceptor,  Dr.  James  R.  Thomas,  it 
was  not  so  much  what  he  tavight  in 
the  class  room  as  what  he  was  be- 
fore his  eyes  in  his  daily  life,  that 
caused  him  in  later  years  to  regard 
him  with  sentiments  of  mingled 
reverence  and  gratitude — so  might 
Jefferson  Hamilton  have  said  of  Dr. 
Fisk. 

At  Wilbraham  young  Hamilton 
studied  hard^end  preached  with 
great  f ervor/(  He  felt  his  "  og^l "  in 
all  its  solemnity  and  urgency.^  He 
was  no  halfway  rnan~T:h«.jaaything. 
A  perfunctory,  coldly  genteel,  easy- 
going ministry  was  impossible  to 
him.  \  Both  from  conviction  and 
natviral  temperament  he  was  the 
sort  of  man  to  do  with  all  his  might 
whatever  he  undertook  to  do. 

361 


Jefferson  l)am(lton. 


m  May,  1 83 1,  he  joined  the  New 
England  Conference.  He  was  ap- 
pointed successively  to  Hull,  Ran- 
dolph, Salem,  and  Boston.  During 
his  second  year  at  Boston  he  had 
an  attack  of  measles,  followed  by 
asthma,  from  "which  he  was  an  al- 
most constant  sufferer  all  his  after 
life.  By  the  advice  of  his  physician 
he  came  South  to  find  a  milder 
climate,  expecting  to  return  to  his 
native  state  and  there  finish  his 
work  as  a  preacher  of  the  gospel. 

He  attended  the  session  of  the 
Alabaina  Conference  in  1833,  but 
to  his  surprise  and  regret  he  was 
stationed  first  in  New  Orleans, 
where  he  did  two  years'  good  work 
as  pastor  of  Gravier  Street  Charge. 
At  the  close  of  this  term  he  was 
transferred  to  the  Alabama  Confer- 
ence and  stationed  at  Franklin 
Street  Church,  in  Mobile. 

He  never  left  Alabama.  The 
climate  he  found  to  be  milder  and 
more  friendly  to  his  health  than 
that  of  New   England  ;   the  cordial 

362 


Jefferson  l)amilton. 


hospitality  and  generous  apprecia- 
tion accorded  to  him  touched  his 
responsive  natvire ;  it  seemed  to 
him  that  God  had  brought  him  to 
the  Southern  field,  and  he  decided 
to  stay. 

His  ministry  thus  begun  in  Ala- 
bama continued  until  the  day  of  his 
death  with  unsui-passed  fidelity  and 
steadily  increasing  influence.  He 
served  on  stations  and  on  districts 
from  year  to  year  and  from  decade 
to  decade  for  thirty-five  busy  and 
fruitful  years,  "  never  unemployed, 
never  triflingly  employed,"  preach- 
ing a  pui'e  gospel  with  the  skill  of 
a  master  and  with  the  unction  of 
the  Holy  Ghost.  His  brethren  de- 
lighted in  doing  him  honor.  For 
more  than  a  quarter  of  a  century  he 
was  a  member  of  every  session  of 
the  General  Conference  of  his 
Church.  "In  the  active  field  of 
Christian  enterprise  within  the 
bounds  of  the  Alabama  Conference 
he  was  for  many  years  without  a 
peer,"  is   the    judgment  of  his   con- 

363 


Jefferson  Ibamilton. 


temporaries,  expressed  by  one  \vho 
well  kncsv  both  him  and  them. 

He  was  first  of  all,  and  most  of 
all,  a  great  preacher.  The  ele- 
ments of  his  power  and  efficiency  in 
the  pulpit  were :  Extraordinay  fa- 
miliarity with  the  text  of  Scripture ; 
copious  general  reading ;  a  sound 
judgment ;  gravity,  earnestness,  and 
impressiveness  of  manner  ;  and  last- 
l}-/'  and  chiefest  of  all,  that  bap- 
tism of  the  Holy  Ghost  which  gives 
the  one  thing  that  no  natural  gifts 
or  ac^BilSi-SI^^^  '^^  oratory  can 
impart.  In  the  prime  of  his  pow- 
ers effects  follow^ed  his  preaching 
that  can  be  accounted  for  only  on 
the  belief  that  there  was  something 
in  it  beyand  merely  human  elo- 
quence. (__Men  were  smitten  with 
such  conviction  that  they  fell  down 
and  cried  aloud  for  the  mercy  of 
God  to  pardon  their  sinsTx  His 
preaching  was  what  we  "call  Bib- 
lical and  Wesleyan — Biblical  in  the 
soundness  of  the  matter,  Wesleyan 
in   the   plainness   and    pungency   of 

364 


Jefferson  "ttjamllton. 


the  methods.  There  was  no  waste 
of  words  in  his  sermons.  He 
used  only  beaten  oil  for  the  service 
of  the  sanctuary.  The  depth  of 
his  thought,  the  breadth  of  his  in- 
tellectual culture,  the  vigor  of  his 
style,  and  the  cogency  of  his  rea- 
soning attracted  to  his  ministry  a 
class  of  hearers  who  seldom  or 
never  hgatd  the  preaching  of  other 
men  ;  f  while  his  simplirity.,  fervor^ 
and  tenderness  attracted  and  moved 
the  less  critical  multitude.  Judged 
hj  any  fair  standard,  he  was  a 
great  preacher. 

It  is  not  using  an  idle,  well-worn 
phrase  to  say  that  he  was  gifted 
in  prayer,  or  it  would  perhaps  be 
better  to  say  that  he  was  mighty  in 
prayer.  "  Dr.  Hamilton  ^ould  pray 
the  roof  off  the  church,"  said  an  ad- 
mirer in  colloquial  h  vperbole.  Better 
than  that,  his  prayers  brought  down 
answers  from  heaven.  On  one  occa- 
sion in  the  city  of  Montgomery, 
Ala.,  at  the  close  of  one  of  his  im- 
portunate  prayers  for  the  unsaved, 

365 


Jefferson  IDanitlton. 


scores  of  persons  rose  from  their 
seats  unbidden  and  rushed  to  the 
chancel,  crying  in  w^ords  or  say- 
ing by  their  action  :  "  What  shall 
we  do  to  be  saved  ? "  It  is 
added  by  the  veracious  narrator 
of  this  incident  that  nearlv  all 
of  these  awakened  souls  found 
peace  in  believing  on  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ,  and  thenceforth  evi- 
denced the  soundness  of  their  conver-^ 
sion  by  the  consistency  of  their  lives 
as  Christians.  He  kept  vip  the  old 
fashion  of  offering  prayer  in  the 
families  visited  by  him.  Those 
visits  were  never  forgotten  by  those 
households :  it  seemed  to  theixi  as 
if  a  breath  of  heaven  had  come 
with  the  man  of  God  who  had  en- 
tered their  doors,  and  that  he  left  a 
benediction  when  he  was  gone.  It 
is  related  that  in  a  certain  city  in 
Alabama,  where  he  was  at  the  time 
a  pastor,  an  old  citizen  w^ho  had 
lived  a  godless  life  was  thought  to 
be  dying,  and  ^vith  his  consent  a 
minister  of  the  gospel  was  sent  for^ 

366 


Jefferson  l)am(lton. 


The     rector    of     one     of     the    city 
churches     came,      prayer     book     in 
hand,  and  the  sick  man  was  notified 
of   the  fact  of    his    arrival.      "  No," 
protested  the  invalid,  "  I  don't  want 
him  or  any  other  'narrow-gauge  man' 
to  pray  for  me  out  of  a  book.      Send 
for  Dr.  Hamilton ;    he  prays    from 
his    heart,    and    knows    who    he    is 
praying  to."      The  homes   of    Ala- 
bama are  sweeter  and  safer  to-day 
because     of     the     prayers     of     this 
house-visiting,  soul-loving,    prayer- 
ful pastor. 
/      A  thoughtful  and  cultured  Chris- 
\  tian  scholar  who  knew  Dr.  Hamil- 
/  ton  well  said  of  him  :   "  He  was  de- 
/  vout,    lucid,    tactful,    deliberate,    in- 
I   tense."     In   the   good   sense   of  the 
1    word  he   -was  intense :   the  primary 
/    meaning  of  the   word  is  "  raised  to 
a  high  degree."      He  was  intensely 
earnest,  but  in  no  sense  fanatical  or 
crotchety.      He   led   his    Conference 
by  virtue  of  his  earnestness  and  his 
ability,  not  because   leadership  was 
sought  by  him.     He  went  forward 

X  367 


Jefferson  1)3111111011. 


in  the  strength  of  a  mighty  faith 
and  an  unconqueratle  purpose,  and 
his  brethren  followed.  "  He  did 
more  than  any  other  man  in  mold- 
ing the  character  of  the  preachers, 
in  directing  their  efforts  for  the 
welfare  and  salvation  of  the  people, 
and  in  fixing  the  high  standard  of 
faith  and  usefulness  to  which  they 
should  all  viltiinately  attain."  This 
is  the  testimony  borne  by  a  brother 
minister  of  the  Alabama  Confer- 
ence just  after  his  death  and  burial. 
At  that  time  there  were  in  the  Ala- 
bama Conference  such  men  as  Ed- 
ward Wadsworth,  saintly,  cultured, 
and  strong,  a  man  among  men? 
greatly  beloved  and  highly  honored 
throughout  the  Church ;  A.  H. 
Mitchell,  scholarlj^,  guileless,  sweet- 
spuled,  brainy,  devout ;  Thomas  O 
Summers,  whose  brain  was  ajixing 
]Ajg,xy,  and  \vhose  capacityfor  labor 
was  only  equaled  by  the  trustful- 
ness of  his  heart ;  O..  ^R^^Blue,  a 
man  of  convictions  backed  by 
clear  thinking  and  courage  to  match  ; 

368 


Jeffereon  Ibamllton. 


I.  S.  Hopkins,  scholar,  thinker,  and 
worker,  massive  and  polished ;  A. 
S.  Andrews,  large-brained,  far-see- 
ing, earnest,  weighty,  and  wise  ; 
W.  H.  Ellison,  with  the  wisdom  of 
a  sage  and  the  benignity  of  a  fa- 
ther ;  M.  S.  Andrews,  stalwart  and 
sunny,  a  strong  man  and  true ;  H. 
D.  Moore,  everybody's  friend  and 
loved  by  everybody,  able  in  the  pul- 
pit and  a  pastor  who  cared  for  all 
the  flock,  feeding  both  the  sheep 
and  the  lambs ;  S.  P.  Richardson, 
whose  logic  was  as  strong  as  his  wit 
was  keen-edged,  who  knew  how  to 
dissect  error  and  was  ready  to  de- 
fend the  truth;  W.  A.  McCarty, 
strong  thinker  with  the  gift  of 
clear  expression  ;  J.  O.  Keener,  then 
a  growing  young  man  who  has 
kept  growing  in  intellectual  stature  ; 
the  Glenns,  the  Briggses,  Ross, 
Motley,  Rush,  Mason,  Crawford, 
Solomon,  Birch,  Dowling,  Aber- 
nathy,  and  others  not  less  worthy 
of  honorable  mention  in  this  con- 
nection.    The  Alabama  Conference 

24  369 


Jefferson  tbamilton. 


was  then,  as  now,  a  body  of  strong 
men,  and  only  a  man  of  largest 
proportions  and  finest  quality  would 
be  accorded  a  position  of  leadership 
therein. 

Dr.  Hamilton  passed  through 
several  seasons  of  the  yellow  fever 
epidemic  in  the  cities  in  which  he 
was  stationed,  and  thrice  came  very 
near  dying  of  that  dread  disease. 
Day  and  night  he  was  with  the  sick 
and  the  dying.  Almost  the  whole 
city  of  Mobile  became  his  charge  at 
one  time  during  the  prevalence  of  the 
epidemic.  At  its  close,  as  he  refused 
all  pecuniary  compensation  from  the 
members  of  the  churches  whose  sick 
he  had  visited  and  whose  dead  he 
had  buried,  the  nonreligious  young 
men  of  the  city  presented  him  a 
purse  containing  five  hundred  dol- 
lars, and  inclosed  their  thank  offering 
with  a  note  expressing  their  grati- 
tude for  his  service  in  that  time  of 
distress.  His  strong  religious  con- 
victions and  decided  preference  for 
his  own  denomination  did  not  nar- 

370 


Jefferson  'Hamilton. 


row  the  range  of  his  sympathies, 
nor  prevent  his  interchanging  cour- 
tesies with  like-minded  ministers  of 
other  communions.  He  was  Hb- 
eral,  not  latitudinarian,  with  genu- 
ine love  in  his  heart  for  all  who 
loved  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and 
with  a  Christlike  pity  in  his  soul  for 
all  who  were  strangers  to  his  salva- 
tion. He  was  a  peacemaker,  being 
first  a  recipient  and  then  a  dispenser 
of  that  grace. 

He  took  part  in  the  organization 
of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church, 
South,  and  no  man  during  that  stormy 
time  bore  himself  with  more  Chris- 
tian courage,  dignity,  moderation, 
and  gentleness.  He  stood  with  the 
Southern  delegates  in  the  memora- 
ble General  Conference  of  1844, 
but  spoke  no  word  in  that  great 
debate  that  dying  he  could  wish  to 
blot. 

During  the  troublous  period  of 
reconstruction  following  our  Civil 
War  Dr.  Hamilton  exerted  an  in- 
fluence that   was   happily  conserva- 

371 


Jetfcrson  Ibamilton. 


tive  of  the  welfare  of  the  Southern 
people  and  of  the  peace  and  pros- 
perity of  the  whole  country.  His 
faith  in  God  was  unshaken  by  the 
defeat  of  the  Southern  arms.  His 
convictions  and  his  prayers  were 
with  the  South,  and  the  final  result 
was  to  him  both  surprising  and 
grievous.  But  he  was  not  the  sort 
of  man  who  stakes  his  religious 
faith  upon  the  issue  of  combat  with 
carnal  weapons,  or  measures  the  jus- 
tice of  a  cause  by  popular  majori- 
ties or  minorities.  He  did  not  so 
read  the  Word  of  God  or  the  his- 
tory of  the  world.  During  the  war 
he  had  exhibited  no  cowardice. 
When  it  ended  and  he  found  him- 
self with  the  vanquished  party,  he 
accepted  the  result  -without  the  syco- 
phancy of  the  post  bellum  renegade 
on  the  one  hand,  and  without  stu- 
pid factiousness  or  hopeless  despera- 
tion on  the  other.  The  disasters 
and  sorrows  of  that  time  were  felt 
by  him  most  profoundly.  It  could 
not  have  been  otherwise  w^ith  a  man 

372 


Jefferson  Ibamilton. 


of  his  breadth  of  sympathy  and 
re-finement  of  sensibility.  But  his 
faith,  like  that  of  the  man  of  Uz, 
was  too  deep-rooted  to  be  over- 
thrown by  temporal  calamity^  If 
any  change  was  discerned  by-tnose 
who  sat  under  his  ministry,  it  was 
that  his  trust  was  stronger  and  his 
grasp  on  the  essentials  of  Christian 
doctrine  and  experience  firmer.  The 
marvelous  rapidity  of  the  recuper- 
ation of  organized  Christianity  in 
the  South  after  that  terrible  strug- 
gle may  be  largely  ascribed  to  the 
influence  of  such  men  as  Dr.  Ham- 
ilton— men  of  God,  men  who  could 
stand  any  storm,  not  reeds  shaken 
by  the  changing  winds  of  human 
fortune. 

Dr.  Hamilton  was  a  man  of  com- 
manding presence,  though  of  small 
stature.  His  slight  form  was 
crowned  with  a  noble  head  and 
brow,  his  features  were  fine,  his 
eyes  brilliant,  and  there  was  a  min- 
gled dignity  and  benignity  in  his 
bearing  that  elicited  at  once  the  re- 

373 


JefEereon  Ibamllton. 


spect  and  the  good  will  of  all  who 
came  into  his  presence.  His  bodily 
infirmity  never  destroyed  the  cheer- 
fulness of  his  spirit  nor  superin- 
duced any  morbidness  of  temper  or 
utterance.  He  exhibited  in  the  pul- 
pit and  everywhere  else  the  good 
taste  of  a  man  whose  gentlemanly 
instincts  \vere  still  further  refined 
and  exalted  by  fellowship  with  God. 
He  was  all  that  is  included  in  the 
statement  that  he  was  a  Christian 
gentleman. 

It  seemed  to  be  fitting  that  such 
a  life  should  close  as  it  did.  He 
died  of  pneumonia  during  the  ses- 
sion of  his  Conference  at  Opelika, 
Ala.,  on  December  i6,  1874.  When 
told  that  he  must  die,  he  said  :  "  It 
is  good."  After  sending  Christian 
salutations  to  absent  brethren  and 
friends,  he  gave  his  last  testimony 
in  these  words  :  "  I  have  never  been 
a  boastful  Christian,  have  entertained 
humble  views  of  mj-self,  but  I  do 
profess  to  have  (a  clear  knowledge 
of  the  doctrine  oP  salvation  by  faith 

374 


5efferson  Ibamilton. 


and  a  conscious  experience  that  the 
blood  ofTesus  Christ  cleanseth  from 
all  sin. ''J With  his  dying  lips  he 
thus  bore  testimony  to  the  fact  that 
the  Sun  of  Righteousness  always 
shines,  and  that  upon  the  soul  turned 
toward  it  in  humble,  trustful  faith 
and  obedience  it  will  shine  forever. 
And  then  the  faithful  servant  of 
the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  was  caught 
up  to  be  forever  with  his  Lord, 
where  he  sees  "  face  to  face." 

375 


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